#also I said second chance when I meant third | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nexusnyx · 1 year

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oh, to be alone with you

Joel Miller x OC!Reader [8.9k] SUMMARY: Never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all. His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance. Now... this seemed like a third. Joel saw the feelings in your eyes, and he took a chance, hoping to be choosing right for everybody this time.

— A/n 📝This was a commission made by the lovely and (very patient) Grace, and I hope they enjoy the most out of everyone ;) Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors DNI. | 🏷️ age gap, slow burn, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, mutual pining, resolved sexual tension, insecure!Joel, protective!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talking, soft!Dom!Joel, praising, edging, cum play, uhm. filth? lol. you're welcome.

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In the three years he knew you, Joel never heard you sound like this.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him. Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him. Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The first thing was set in stone. The second, on the other hand, he could try to change.

He meets her in Jacksonville, after fucking everything up with Ellie.

They had just arrived, both of them. Drenched in regret, numerous traumatizing events all muddled together, as that thick air of uncertainty surrounded their relationship. Joel thanked his brother and Maria for welcoming them back. Ellie spoke so little the first day that even Maria, someone who barely knew her, tried prying information out of her.

But it'd been quickly forgotten. One moment, Ellie and Joel were in a nameless hospital surrounded by fireflies, and a month later, they were settled into a nice house in the commune.

As if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

And there, in Jacksonville, there's you.

One of the only two doctors in town, the other being your very own old man.

All he remembered from the day he met you was your smile. Those beautiful cheeks painted cherry red, the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes, and how round and big they seemed to him as you said, "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Joel. 'm Grace."

You were. Joel had said something back. Ran away from there as soon as he could, but he played that smile every hour for the next three days before he caved in and came back to see you again.

Little did Joel know how much of a grace you'd become.

You were the only person who knew about Ellie.

Being the one who tattooed her on the second week after she arrived, Joel and Ellie decided together that at least one of the only two doctors should know about her condition, and so she told you.

Whatever Joel had expected from you, your reaction was as further from it as it could be. Nonchalance, and a sad grin. A placating nod as you told him, "you can wait here, I'll examine Ellie thoroughly and then we'll get started on the tattoo; I'll call you inside then, 'kay?"

All the compliments you offered towards the design — something Ellie drew herself — made you rise in her list of favorite people, speedily.

There was also openness. Ellie looked at you as you poked the needles in her skin with calculating eyes and Joel saw in them — if eyes could touch, she'd be reaching out for you. Hands spread open and fingers clutching around nothing. Ellie wanted to trust.

It was only a few more weeks before she confided in you and then walked up to her and Joel's place to confront him.

Demanding the truth.

The truth she knew he'd kept from her since she woke up in the car, probably.

"There was no cure."

Ellie stopped trusting him.

Joel died a little bit on the inside, but... she's alive.

He'd do it all over again.

You found him sitting on the edge of the lake with a guitar on his feet and his body frozen with dread, thinking about how hard Ellie had cried.

When you asked him, "Can I sit?", Joel thought it'd be another one of those times when you two sat close to one another in perfect silence. It happened a few times during movie nights or shared dinners in the commune's barn. Joel soaked up your presence, but that time, you had more. "You know... if one day you ever wanna hear my thoughts, professional thoughts on this whole 'cure' matter, I'd be happy to share them."

Joel had looked up at you, even though that hurt. So beautiful. "'m not sure I ever wanna think about it too hard."

You nodded. Scooted a little closer to him. "That's alright too. I just wanted to — put it out there. So you know I have thoughts about it. I told her that, too, but she gave me kinda the same reply."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Joel. She did." No one did a sad grin quite like you. The way it reached through your eyes and touched him. "You two are so... similar."

"But we ain't." Joel knew they were different. He knew what Ellie would've chosen. "I think... I wished too hard we were."

The laughter was unexpected. "Joel."

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I know what you did, right?"

If a pin dropped a thousand miles away, at that moment, Joel would hear. With a deaf right ear or not, he would. I know what you did. Was that possible? How would you know and still have been this kind to him these weeks? Still have chosen to sit by his side, to make Tommy bug him about getting his check-ups, to be sitting next to him?

You nodded at his gawking eyes and jaw-slacked mouth. "Yeah. I'm quite good at putting two and two together."

"I... Grace — what I did—" he saw flashes of it. The white noise still echoed in him. "There's no way to know that and still be able to look me in the eye. It's why she hates me now. I — I was selfish. I took away her purpose just because I'm an old fucker who didn't wanna—"

"I would've done the same." It stopped him. The words clamped his mouth shut. "I don't have any children, but I love the only parent I have, and I would've done the same for him. He would do the exact same thing for me. Don't think he wouldn't. I know he looks like the sweetest old man ever, but he'd rip apart an entire hospital to get to me too. Go ask him if you don't believe me — but believe this: If I had a child, I wouldn't let them make this 'grand sacrifice', not even if I thought it'd work. Which is not the case here."

Joel had nothing to say to all of that.

He swallowed the knot tying his vocal cords together and looked ahead, trying to process the perspective from which you saw the situation.

Sitting in silence with you brought him peace, and that day, it deterred him from the plan that was coming together — the seed of maybe if you poisoned yourself slowly over the years you could finish the job this time.

Joel asked for your father's location in the commune, then walked with you when the sun set to eat dinner.

Ellie still hated him, and she probably would continue to for a long time, but Joel no longer felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no end in sight for his fall.

I would've done the same. The words pulled him back. Made him see blue once more.

Validation saved his life. Your approval became a pillar.

He'd continue to seek it for the next years to come.

The Earth finished a whole new cycle around the Sun, and Joel started to build a life again in the meantime.

He worked patrols and went back to carpentry.

He befriended your father, who loved calling him to have dinner or smoke a pipe with him on his porch. Your father was a sweet-looking man who hid very crazy, funny, and dark bits inside of him.

"I see where she gets it from," Joel commented.

It pulled boisterous laughter from him. "Yeah, she's a feisty one."

Joel snorted. It came out in smokes. "Feisty? Ellie's feisty. I was on patrol last month when the raiders tried transpassing. I've seen your daughter use a scalpel in ways I still have fuckin' nightmares about."

More laughter was followed by, "I taught her well."

"You sure fuckin' did." Joel laughed too. Not because it was funny, but because the memory kind of terrified him. Thrilled him. He shook his head and gave the pipe back. "Was she always like that?"

"Was Ellie always like this?"

Joel chuckled. "Fair enough." Even though Ellie was now a teenager, and Joel had only known her for two years, he answered. "I think she has, yeah. A lil' badass. A lil' feisty and weird. And funny."

"God — she is funny."

"I didn't think so at first."

"She needed to work on her delivery," your father laughed like there was no tomorrow. No apocalypse. "I like seeing her and Grace together. I think she's waking up that motherly desire in her, ya know? I always wanted to see her be a mom before I give my big adios."

"If she hears ya she's gonna smack you again."

"Eh! She's always hitting folks. Her violent little heart can't stop anyone from reaching the pearly gates."

"Morice, I've heard enough stories to know you ain't seeing any pearls."

There had been silence, and then unstoppable, loud laughter from both of them.

It was the memory Joel thought about the most after he passed away.

When you came to his house with a whiskey bottle in hand and the angriest look Joel had ever seen on your stunning features, he knew without a word being said.

He sat with you in silence as you had done for him so many other times. You cried, chopped wood until your clothes were soaked in sweat, and drank with Joel until the bottle was empty.

It had been the first time you asked for something more.

When you caved into the tears late at night, Joel saw you pacing from left to right and had no clue what to do, what to offer, but you spared him of choosing. "Can I — can you hug me?"

He complied in the same second.

The request was quieter than the wind, but he could pick out your voice from a crowd.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

That opened up new doors — pearly gates. A year of small touches on the forearm and close proximity at every given opportunity made Joel aware of how much he craved your presence. Those little flames were nothing compared to this—a hug, and Joel's mind and body were a forest on fire.

You clung to him, rubbed your face on his chest, and refused to let go. You accepted every caress in your hair, and almost fell asleep on his shoulder.

After the hug, any excuse was a good one.

You touched him every time you saw him — even if just a little nudge on the shoulder or a finger brushing the back of his hand.

Joel started leaving tobacco and herbs on top of Morice's resting place, and continued their conversations even if he never heard the replies.

"I'll take care of 'er. Be by her side, y'know? I know she doesn't need it, but... You and her were the reason I found some happiness in here, so... It's only fair."

Somewhere along the way, you'd convinced Joel to play on Tommy's barbecues which happened every month for some of his friends.

Music connected weird parts of him together.

The strings of his guitar were one of the only guarantees he had of making Ellie smile, for starters. When she asked for the lessons a while after stopping all communication with Joel, he had simply nodded a meek, "Yeah," too stunned to add anything else; too grateful to even dare think about it.

Your request came the very first time Joel attended one of the famous Millers Sunday, and it was the reason why Joel went from feeling like a stranger in a strange town to himself again.

Tommy clapped him on the back. You, and your smile from across the yard with the fireplace burning in between, and Joel felt almost like a person.

So he sang. Played the strings even if his joints ached around the edges, played until they no longer did and his body grew used to the motions again, played every month to come just to see the smile creep on your face and you mouthing along the lines of the songs you knew.

One day, he asked why didn't you join Ellie's lessons.

"She's gettin' real good at it." He was proud of it. Joel almost preened talking of it, matter-of-factly, missing the way your eyes softened. "You like music. You like it and miss it, which not many people do. I don't even know why I ain't never thought of it — 'm sorry about that, darlin'. Were you ever interested? In learning?"

With his eyes back on you, Joel swallowed a little thickly at how gentle your smile looked. "Joel — have you ever seen me on The Porch's dance floor? Do I look like I have any rhythm?"

"Sure you do."

Your laughter. "No, I don't!" You slapped his arm, hiding your laughter in your arms afterward, and Joel was used to it. Being hit, being poked, being used as a pillow. "Stop lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'." He was. It made him smile to see you laugh that hard.

"You're full of shit, that's what you are."

"Is that your medical diagnosis?"

The giggles that were subduing came back, and Joel knew the second glass of wine had caught up to your head. "You've been spending too much time with Miss Williams."

That made him laugh. Joel did so with his head thrown back because not even three days ago he had a screaming 16-year-old screaming at him about 'manipulation of the goddamn perspective' and if that wasn't your lingo through and through. "That's rich! Oh, that's rich as fuck comin' from you."

"How so?!"

"I reckon Ellie Missy Williams's been doin' just fine with your tutoring. Don't think I've missed you and her gigglin' in the room every now and then."

You roll your eyes, smiling so wide that your tinted cheeks look carved into stone. "Fine. I'm a terrible influence. Her attitude got nothing to do with her grumpy ass 'father-figure' who taught her how to be a goddamn menace to society."

"I can hear the air quotes even when you don't them with your finger, darlin'," Joel accused, trying to suppress his smile and school his face into a threatening, menacing look.

He's hit with the memory of when you first mocked him for it.

"Don't call me her father. I ain't her father."

"Good fucking gods, you two are so difficult! Fine. As her "father figure", you need to say something. Is that better, Joel? Did the semantics change help you?"

Now, you have the same side smirk.

"You didn't say I was wrong." Your voice dropped to a whisper.

It pulled his body closer. Like gravity was in your sound waves. "I didn't."

You rested your chin on your hand. "So... we're both a bad influence."

"Seems that way," he found himself whispering too. Joel kept his eyes on your cheeks. On your lashes and your eyes, even if they pierced through him.

"Considering she's in perfect health, handles herself just fine, and is trying her best to keep the good people of this town safe... I think that's not a bad job. The whole picture, y'know?"

Joel nods and his lips tug in a smile — not because of your sweet spoken words, but because it's funny to see it. Your mind switching to seriousness so fast.

"I do love music, though," you pout, looking up at him. He recalls how the bickering started this time around, and chuckles at your late confession. "I like watching you guys better than any idea of me playing. Or singing." With a full-body shudder, you add. "That is not where my talents lie."

"Could be," he insisted, just for the sake of that—

—your smile. "Not even you have that patience, Miller."

Miller. He had to look away every time you spoke it that way. "You're right. The brat burned away the last savings I had of that."

He heard you chuckling, and then he felt it. The nuzzling of your nose on his shoulder. "Nah. You were trying to sweet talk her just last week."

"She needs a new horse," he argued with thin air over the memory you bring up. He also scoots closer to the couch so you can rest your head on him when you're done with your cat-like behavior and end up with your whole face pressed on his shoulders, your breath tingling his neck. "And you could help me with convincing her, couldn't ya?"

"I'm not gonna meddle in your Miller-Williams business," you scoffed as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

As if these two years and a half hadn't been about you and him and her and everything orbiting around that.

Joel scoffed back. "Darlin', if you think you ain't mingled in our business, I'm gonna have to be the bearer of bad news here..."

"More tangled."

"It's just a horse, Grace."

"She lost her first pet, a horse, in a traumatic even, Joel."

Fuck him, he loved doing this with you. He sipped the last remnants of alcohol from his glass hoping it'd dull the smell of your hair invading his senses. Or maybe he liked when it amplified it. Who knew. Who gave a fuck. "Fine."

"Fine."

"She can keep usin' the stables' horses every time we gotta go out." Joel was never above playing dirty. Certainly not with you. "The ones Rick tames. The ones that sense how volatile, strong, angry she can be..."

The way you tensed was twice more obvious with your whole body pressed on his side. "God, I fucking hate you sometimes."

Joel laughed at the empty curse. "'m just sayin'."

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do and it's annoying and fine." You sighed deeply. "I'll get into yet another awkward, intense conversation with the volatile teenager about the importance of facing traumas. It'll go great."

"Better you who knows what the fuck you're talkin' about than me."

"She just stopped giving me the cold shoulder." It's a whine. You're whining at Joel about his daughter who still lives in a constant fluctuation between loveshatesloveshates with him was giving you the cold shoulder.

"It takes her two weeks to get over her lil' fights with you."

"Hmm." It was nice when you gave in. There were few times Joel could get through your stubbornness — something you and Ellie had engraved in your souls — and it felt like a win every time. "I'll talk to her."

Joel's hand moved on its own accord. From his lap to your hair, resting slowly on your head.

He squeezed a few times, and felt you nudging towards the touch. Leaning into it.

"Thanks, darlin'."

There was a heartbeat before you answered.

"'Course, Joel."

While the looks were easy to ignore, the whispers were not.

Words carried by the wind clung to his skin like the very smell of sweat after some years of running non-stop.

They spoke about him.

About Ellie.

You.

All three, mushed together, sometimes all in one go, sometimes two by two, but always you three.

Joel knew what they thought of him and you — of your time spent together.

They thought of him as inappropriate. You had always been the 'dark sheep' of the commune. The reason why people sometimes still remembered how grim and ugly it was out there. They spoke of you as ruthless, frowned upon your methods, but Joel smell their bullshit and saw beyond their condescension.

It was easy to speak with their bellies full.

With their houses safe. God, it boiled his blood to even think about it — these people sometimes slept with their doors opened because the security around the wooden gates was so great and efficient, but failed to remember or willingly forgot that all triage was created by your now deceased father and you.

It was your 'ruthless methods' that kept the creeps away.

Who screened people who seemed otherwise harmless but sought to do sordid, unspeakable things inside safe havens they'd have no problem burning to the ground.

Sure, he'd cleaned his way through a hospital to stop the murder of one single child, but at least Joel had a head on his shoulders.

Some people out there lacked even that.

As much as he wished for judgment to come only from the strangers he grew to know as neighbors and comrades — something you, personally, loved teasing him and Tommy of being — but of close people.

Maria, he could handle it. It was when Tommy spoke up that it stung.

"Don't you think it's... weird? Hangin' out with her so much? I mean—I heard from Dieter that he wanted to ask her out, but somehow when he goes to ask she's always talkin' to you." Tommy looked like he meant well with it. Those eyes never lied to him, and Joel saw the concern there. "I just don't want you to feel left out or abandoned in case she does start seein' someone, that's all."

That's all.

As if he hadn't opened a dent in Joel's mind.

A 'in case she does start seein' someone' sized dent.

It was the only time Joel gave a damn about words being spoken of him—or to him, he should say, considering it was meant as advice.

It was the first and last time.

In three years Joel never thought of you or anything he felt as inappropriate. Maybe he even should.

There were certainly dreams.

Desire was there, too. Alive and burning. Tall and solid, with the fires high enough for it to be a volcano.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew you were not for him.

He knew you were too bright. Knew he had nothing to offer but his company, some music every now and then, and everything inside of him, if you asked.

Still—he never did anything.

Even in the times when it felt like the bickering and teasing might be called flirting. In the times when you bit your lip after staring at him a heartbeat or two too long, or when you made his chest, shoulders, his neck your personal comforter, making yourself at home.

He bit his tongue during those times.

Told himself there was such a thing as projecting, and that just because you knew him, knew all of him, it didn't mean your kindness and acceptance equaled all that he felt for you.

All of the fuckin' ocean of things he so painfully, obviously felt for you.

Listening to Tommy worked until it didn't.

Until you showed up at his doorstep late at night, pissed off and fuming.

"Where the fuck were you?" Without even waiting for a reply, you stepped inside the house, pushing past him. "And speaking of being places, where have you been? 'Cause blowing me off only works the first four or five times. I know where you live, and in case it wasn't crystal clear to you, I know when you're lying to me."

So you pretended to believe his shitty lies. Joel closed the door with a sigh and wondered if Ellie was already listening from upstairs.

He imagined telling you to lower your voice was a certain ticket to meeting your father earlier than his due time.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't answer where you've been." Your arms crossed over your chest. "Y'know, it's called Miller Sunday and ever since you moved here, that means two for one. Tell me why I endured Maria's friends the whole fucking night, hm?"

"Uh — 'cause they like you?"

"Joel."

"I know, I know." He chuckled under his breath, raising both hands up in surrender. "My bad." He nodded towards the kitchen trying to work out how to knit an excuse on the spot, and then remembered—I know when you're lying to me. "I've been... stuck in my head."

There was a pause. "Oh. Ew." That made him laugh again. "Well, alright. That happens sometimes. Care to share why you're acting as if isolation's gonna help with that?"

"Damn, I don't know, woman. 'Cause I'm old and stupid? 'Cause I listen to Tommy every now and then even though that's a shitty idea sometimes?"

"Don't call yourself stupid in my presence, it's fucking offensive." The damn heat behind your words almost made him work up a sweat. "What does Tommy have to do with this?"

"Nothin'." Joel hid his face while opening the fridge, but he knew your silence well. He picked up the water jug, and placed it on the counter behind him.

"Miller, look at me."

Goddamn it.

He turned around slowly.

You were looking right through him. Searching all over his face for something you found within two seconds.

Then, you stepped closer until you were only a few inches away, looking up at him with enough certainty in your gaze to make him feel smaller despite the inches he had on you.

"I know damn well who I wanna spend my fucking time with." It was like a caress to the face. Joel felt it like your fingertips, which had traced the lines in his eyes and face until he fell asleep a few times by now. "Never insult me again by thinking you, or Tommy, or anyone for that matter can know that better than me."

An adult. Who knows who she is. Who's walked her path.

It went unsaid.

Joel nodded along since there was nothing to do but agree.

"If you don't wanna spend time with me for you own reasons, then... so be it. Tell me about them, or don't, but—never do this again. Your brother's known me for a little longer than you, but he doesn't know me as well as you do. I expected this from Tommy."

But not from him.

"It ain't gonna happen again." Joel said it and you both could hear how he meant it.

Slowly, a smile crept on your face. "Good."

"You're smiling?" he asked, dumbfounded.

The smile widened. "I'm... a little happy right now."

"Because... I ain't gonna be a stu—sorry, a silly little old man any more?"

There was a giggle you tried suppressing and failed at. "No."

"'Cause you're gonna use this against me for the next fortnight to get me to do whatever you want even though I'm nearly a sixty-year-old man?"

A roll of your eyes put a smile on his face as well. "You're more in shape at sixty than a lot of our twenty-year-olds here and that act doesn't work with me, darling. No—I'm happy 'cause I'm surprised. It works on you too."

"What works on me?"

"My mean glance." The answer took him by surprise, and yet, all you seemed was even more gleeful at his wide-eyed expression. "Didn't know I could scare Joel Miller."

"You're gigglin' 'cause you just found out I'm scared of ya?"

"Exactly."

"Darlin' I thought you saw me as a smart one. Who in their right mind ain't scared of you?"

"Damn right." You slapped his shoulder, and it seemed to ease some of the tension he carried these days he tried creating distance between you both. "Now — since we established the rights and wrongs. You wanna hear all the gossip about today?"

Joel had picked up the jug of water, but he could switch to the cans of beer.

"Lay it on me."

The thing is — never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all.

Who was he to be one of the few lucky bastards who got one at the end of everything? What had he done to ever dare dream he deserved it?

Peace, a good life, building things again... that was reserved for the good ones.

Joel was not one of the good ones.

His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance.

All the things he did in between those instances counted for a whole lot.

It's why he ignored it until he couldn't anymore.

That was why Joel saw only his own feelings screaming and reaching so loud, grasping like grabby fingers towards you, and blinded himself to the way all those gazes you sent back were you giving him a white flag.

Joel saw what he had the heart and mind to handle at the moment, he liked to think.

Now... this seemed like a third.

This seemed like a confession.

And it all had happened so fast.

One minute, Joel was saying goodnight to Ellie. She was leaving to go to her friend Dina's house, and you were there with your glass of wine in hand while your other browsed through the new books he picked up at the library lying on his shelves.

He had been talking about Martha — to him, it was a funny story he wanted to get out of his system since it happened, and the one and only person he wanted to tell it to was you.

He was even laughing as he started it, but his rhythm faltered when he first caught the look on your face. It made him lose his train of thought. It fucking blindsided him.

Was it jealousy?

He stuttered. It was ridiculous to him — talking about the nice woman who worked at the restaurant who flustered herself trying to talk to Joel. Flirt with him.

He'd never seen that look on your face.

Could it be—no. It had to be something else. "...told her that she isn't actually, uhm... biological. What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was I shit-talking myself again and didn't notice?"

If there was a thing that put a frown on your face, it was when he did that.

"No." Joel became alert out of nowhere because this tone was absent from his mental register of all your different voice tones.

"Oh. I thought I did." He laughed, albeit awkwardly. "I just—I thought it was funny, that's all. Didn't even think it was possible for someone to blush still 'cause of old me. It was funny, couldn't believe why she was so flustered.

"Why not? That wasn't the reason for my face but now it fucking is." How could Joel ever demand that Ellie cursed less when this was his household? He pinned that one for later. "You're a handsome guy. Intimidating. Don't laugh at her because you give off those... vibes."

Handsome? Intimidating? Joel's mind started reeling, and so he laughed. "Vibes? What fuckin' vibes? I'm old, Grace. What does she got to be intimidated about other than the side of me she doesn't even fuckin' know?"

"I don't know!" your voice rose to match his own, and that's when Joel noticed how his pitch rose as he argued with you. Bickering or fighting, you two could end up at each other's throats within a second, and then be hugging in the next. "Maybe because she sees you from an outsider's lens? Maybe she sees what you can't since you're so busy always thinking about everything you do wrong and lose the ability to look past that?"

"All I do is get shit wrong! You better than anyone knows that." God, was he happy Ellie had left. Joel sighed, rubbed his palms all over his face and tried breathing deep to steady his voice. "I've got nothin' to offer anyone and I don't even know how we got here from a funny lil' story I was—"

That's when it happens.

You interrupt him.

Deadly, direct, and loud, you cut over his words.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

"Why not?! It's the truth."

"No, it fucking isn't! It's the cruel part of you that judges you based only on the wrongdoing and paints it as your whole personality and I'm not gonna fucking have it! It's not the truth. It's not! Not to me." When you stopped, the whole house seemed to follow suit and quiet down with you. Then—"You don't accept me seeing only the worst in me. Why would I let you do the same? I won't."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him.

Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him.

Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

It silenced him immediately.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The silence must have stretched for too long because as it becomes a physical blanket draping over both of your shoulders, your posture changes.

Becomes erratic.

Looking from side to side, you sigh. "Y'know what? I should go. We're both hot-headed idiots and I don't wanna—"

"Sit down."

For the first time ever, you obeyed him.

It took you a second—you froze at the command but stopped your movements to remove your jacket from the chair's back and sat back down in slow movements, your eyes lingering on his all the time.

Was it real?

"Gimme a second here." Joel needed more than that. Goddamn it—Joel would need the rest of his life to accommodate to this feeling. Thing bubble of pure, raw energy swirling inside of him and growing each second, all because— "You were."

You were jealous. Of him.

Your eyes never looked so vulnerable. So earnest, and terrified. "Of course I was." It comes out like you silly old man.

Joel tries to work his vocal cords. They might've been knitted together. "Why?"

Instead of raging over him again, this time, your gaze sees the real question he's asking.

Joel never believed in an air you could touch until he stood in this very room.

He can taste the back of his tongue. He sees your frown softening, disappearing.

"Because you care, Joel." The simpler answer. He waits, because he sees in your steady, careful breathing that there's more you want to say. This tone he recognizes. This is 'I'm collecting myself bit by bit' Grace, and he waits, as always. "Because... you either lost your eyesight or just blinded yourself to... you." It's nighttime and the only light in the kitchen comes from his yellowish bulb, but it's enough to see the tint on your cheeks. "Because you're—this package. Of everything real. Everything resilient, and clever, and... Miller. Fuckin' — southern charm. Stupid fuckin' smile."

It amps. It darkens. Your cheeks, your eyes. And once you seem, it seems a crack is opened in your dam, and the inevitable water comes to fall.

"I dreamt about it before." Joel is stuck in place, listening to you. "Your smile. The way you laugh, too. And — you do this thing, where you're a complete delight to people you care about. That's what Ellie means when she says you make it so hard to stay away from you, just so you know."

"You two talk about me?" it comes out choked.

You nod. "'Course we fuckin' do."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeah." Your laughter sounds as breathless as he feels. "Because of that. And more."

He nods back, thinking — okay.

Okay.

Joel might take a lifetime to feel worthy of your feelings, but if he has them — "I didn't think I stood any chance."

The confession lays on the table for a moment and when you pick it up, Joel can see it — your eyes widen, surprise evident on your face.

"You really didn't know," you whisper.

He blinks away the sudden sting and glint in his eyes, laughing at himself. "I really didn't know." He registers you knew about your own feelings, but you have no idea of his. It registers that you both have been suffering in silence, overshadowed by the brightness of your own feelings to see beyond them. "I don't think I could've handled it if I knew it before," he confesses.

"Wow." You sigh deeply, sucking all the air you can into your lungs. "I can't believe I owe that little shit fifty bucks. I don't even have money."

"You bet on this?"

The look you throw him is enough of an answer.

Then, another question pops up — and yeah. That's why the air is palpable. It's like walking through a spider's nest.

The threads might be thinner than hair, but the feeling sticks out. It sticks with you. If Joel's had a chance all this time, if all your feelings were kept safely tucked i

He only has one question to make. "Is it too late?"

Your eyes snap back to him. "Too late for what?"

"To make a move." Joel might've been an idiot, but he's keen on fixing it. "Because — in case it wasn't clear, my thoughts are all yours." From the look on your face, it was not something you knew. The glint in your eyes tells him it might be something you hoped for or dreamed about, but it's his words that set it into stone. "My time's yours. I ain't as good as you with words, but... all I ever wanna be is alone with you. You said it yourself last month. 'm the happiest when I'm with you and El. Now... you know why."

For someone who knew him so little, you always seemed to know what kept Joel tethered to the moment.

As you listened to his words, your eyes shined, reflecting the light. Joel wanted to say more things, but he decided to keep them for later. A moment when there was less of his soul seeming to pour out through his pores.

You get up from your chair, and in two steps, you're standing in front of him.

Turning sideways, you sit on his lap.

Joel feels his hands shake as they come to rest on your hips, and yours come up to his face.

There's nothing left for you to say, or ask. Joel closes his eyes in surrender. Opening his mouth was a leap — perhaps the height was what created that bubble; that huge thing inside of him that only expanded the closer you got.

Joel never felt this before.

He knew those were your lips pressing against his. Knew it was your hair tickling his face and your fingers threading through his thick hair, but he felt submerged.

Not drowning — just deep, way deep in water.

You pulled back after a second. The kiss was so soft, and yet, Joel felt you like an ocean wave.

He opened his eyes to the sight of you licking your lips, and that snapped him; something in your tongue reached deep within him, going further than he thought possible, and ignited another something in him.

Desire.

Not the need for release, or momentary rushes, but—

the real deal.

One of Joel's hands came up abruptly, taking hold of your neck, and he breathed in a slow breath before closing the gap between your lips again.

This time, he invited himself in.

Joel licked your lips open. He pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, and kissed you for all the years he lacked the will to kiss someone.

It was a feast.

The more he gave, the more you took. The sounds that started to come out of you only made Joel hungrier, and the more he heard it, the more he craved it.

He could already see the cycle of addiction forming in his brain.

Your tongue swirled with his slowly, in a lazy, filthy kiss. With his hands making a mess of your hair or grabbing you by the neck and chin, he guided your face to where he wanted.

When a particular breathy whine was pulled out of you, Joel's fingers tightened around you. The kiss became desperate, needy, a pouring of bottled emotions.

A joined deep dive, where no oxygen was needed.

Fuck—Joel needed to breathe. He pulled back because his lungs screamed that at him, and he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that. His heart was beating as fast as it could, and his ears were ringing, he thought, and you were resting your forehead on his with your puffs of breath tickling his face.

He could feel you smiling with how close you stayed to his lips.

Joel really was alive, no matter how hard he fought it.

And now, somehow, he was here.

"What?" you whispered. Breathless.

That, he wanted to answer. Joel panted, and noticed you were breathing heavily too.

"'m never been in such a hurry my whole damn life." Joel pulled you back by the nape for one more kiss just to show you he meant it, and you moaned on his lips.

It occurred to him that might die by your hands, metaphorical or not.

You were in him.

"You." His time was yours, and so were his thoughts, and now, Joel thought he was, too. In a way. "Sittin' here on my lap, like it's nothin'."

"It's everything."

"Goddamn it, woman—"are you trying to kill me, he wants to say.

It gets buried in your lips.

Joel wants to devour you right there on the table. It's a place for eating, and he'd butter you up only to eat you piece by piece until half of his face was drenched.

At the same time, Joel's hands were shaking.

He kissed you so deep, and yet so slow because he wants this forever.

He couldn't keep everything inside him. Joel knew all he could do for now was kiss you because anything more might pull him apart by the seams.

When you start kissing his neck, his eyes snap open, and he forces himself to capture your attention. "Darlin'." It comes out raspy and low, pulling another precious sound from you. Joel exhales shakily. "Grace, hey."

That gets you. Your face comes back in his field of vision, and he's distracted by the reality facing him.

Red cheeks and lips, which are also puffy. Swollen.

He did that.

The glazy glint in your eyes and the wildness of your hair.

He did that, too.

"What?" you ask. Breathless voice — all him.

It hits him right there—the new stream making connections in the depths of his mind. Mine. A river of mineminemine.

"I hate to break this short, but — El's comin' back soon, I think."

"Oh!" You nod to yourself. "Right. And — you wanna wait? To tell her, and stuff?"

Joel laughs. He leans his head to kiss those pretty, puffy lips. He murmurs the answer right against them. "Nah. 'm gossiping to her as soon as she's through that door and 'm gettin' my money share of that bet you mentioned." Your gasp makes the smile stay on his face. "Yeahhh. But — I'm takin' you on a date tomorrow. Old school style. I'll plan it and everythin'. I know you well enough to not mess this up, I think."

He's messed up enough in his life. Maybe the universe could grant him after trying so damn hard to repair all the things he'd broken; a chance.

"I'll be ready, Miller."

He kisses you again. "Good. I'll pick you up at sundow."

"Is this you kicking me out of your house?"

He rolls his eyes at the sarcastic question and kisses the cocky grin off your face because he now can. He kisses it away real good, until his own toes are squirming in his boots and Joel can categorize the strength you like to have your hair being pulled by, how much you enjoy the nibbles he's unable to keep from stealing of your lips, and he's mapped the outlines of your upper body.

When he needs the stupid oxygen again, Joel pulls back but stays close.

"You're gonna help me make dinner?" he asks, low and sweet.

You hum. "Yeah."

"Thank you." Thank you, he kisses the thought on your lips. Thank you so much. "'m gonna be doin' this a lot now that I know I can."

"Oh, you're gonna kill me."

Joel's smirk comes back. "Y'know what? I was thinkin' the same thing."

Dinner is made with music playing on the radio for the first time in a while. Joel almost pinches himself when Ellie gets home with a, "Woah, what the fuck?! It smells amazing in here."

It hurts, how good it feels.

Joel never thought that feeling would come back.

According to Ellie Williams, Joel becomes "unbearable, really," and he would take offense to it had she not followed it with, "but... it's nice to see this side of you. And — I like her. I love Grace, actually. You know that. She's given me a lot to think about. Plus—she makes you reeeeal talkative, and we had a nice talk last night. Good on you."

Good on you.

Joel smiles for the rest of the day.

Tommy takes a total of one day and one scolding from you — which Joel fucking misses because of a shift of all things, and honestly, he'll never stop asking for your story of that day — and there's that.

Millers Sunday has a couple of tense first tries, but after a couple of months, people get used to the shift.

It's not that different from before.

You two were already seen side by side more often than not. Now, the difference was that Joel's arm could be found around your chair sometimes, or your hand rested on his neck, or you two shared a little wink.

A little flirtatious remark.

Ellie 'hated' it. "It's gross. You two are gross."

She said it laughing, though. Joel smiled every time he heard it.

They grew used to it, and Joel thanked the power of the peace you brought him, because anything they disliked about it became white noise to him.

All his insecurities were abandoned on the first date night he has with you.

Joel gets the house all for himself.

He plans the hours carefully because he meant what he said. He picks you up at sunset and takes you for a walk on the lake to enjoy the night sight and weather while it lasts. After, he takes you home to eat dinner, then pulls out one of your favorite board games to entertain the night and give both the time to work through the wine.

He liked to see your glee winning.

Joel was shitty at most of these, but it was worth the frustration of being a sore loser in your hands.

You soothed his bickering protests by crawling to him.

Not sliding, or scooting over — you crawled like a cat, and stole all his focus in one movement.

Joel did to you what he meant to do on that table.

First, right there on the floor.

Even though he wished you two went to the bedroom, it was impossible to untangle from under you when you kissed him until you two were panting for each other again. All that energy sizzling in your veins, pumping with dreams and wine, and Joel just thought fuck it.

There was a fluffy carpet and the duvet he'd spread so you two could sit with the game and play comfortably, and that's all he needed.

He had you on your back with your legs wrapped around his neck, lying with his stomach on the floor. Kneading the pad of his thumbs on the inside of your legs. Kissing all the parts of you he imagined. Joel stripped you from your clothes, and kept his eyes fixed on you as he searched for the right ways to unwind you.

He opened you up with his tongue, slowly, and deliberately.

Nothing was enough when it came to you.

Joel accepted right there — legs locked on his shoulders and your feet digging heels in his back —, right then — his tongue thrusting in and out of you until his jaw ached —, that he was fine knowing it'd be an endless search.

Seeking his fill of you.

He eats up the way your lips loosen when his hands are on you. "Joel, why d'you have clothes on? Take 'em off, take it off." He appreciated how you lost your eloquence. How eager you were for him.

"It's ok, 'm here, darlin."

"I know, want it closer." He loved how you took it. What you wanted from him, you just took it, and he prayed it would always be that way. "Want you in me," you whisper on his lips.

That's when he finds the strength to get up. He picks you up and resists the urge to throw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom with all of his clothes still on and yours abandoned in various places of the living room.

Time sort of... folds, with you and a bedroom.

Joel finds that out on night one, and it keeps on being true.

The way all your walls are down there drives him towards insanity, and later, you peppering kisses all over the skin closest to you, the skin your mouth can find, it brings him back.

Joel gets undressed slowly. "Get on the bed." He falters a little when you obey him again, and it clicks for him. Joel exhales, throwing his shirt off somewhere. "Touch yourself while I do this."

Your eyes widen for a second, but again...

You smile first. Then, slowly, your knees pull apart and your hand reaches between your legs, where your pussy opens up in a glistening sight, and Joel has only the mind to finish his task.

It's hard not to worship something that makes his mouth water.

He does that until you're shaking, legs trembling on his shoulders and begging for him to come up—"get here, please."

It's the 'please' that gets him.

Joel goes in seek of more of them. Always more of them.

He discovers you like it when he alternates between extremes. Really slow, or a hard, or a fast, or a deep pace. Joel spends as long as he can take testing all the ways you wrapped around him can feel like and all the angles that make your jaw fall slack open.

Something about fucking you face to face, though — Joel gets to see the scrunch of your nose and your eyes rolling back when he praises you for doing so, so well. "Taking me so well. Look at that — look at it, baby, c'mon." The loud and unabashed moan you let out makes him roll his eyes, thrusting deep into you. "Keep on looking."

"Joel."

"Hmhm. What — is it — hm, baby?"

"'m gonna cum again," you whine, getting louder, and he gets more desperate. "Oh, god," you cry out.

"'s fine. That's what — I want. Give it to me"

"It's so good. Please—harder, Joel. Like you want to fuck me."

You enjoy doing it to him, Joel thinks. Breaking him so you can put it back together, or maybe it's just how you make him whine that gets to your head.

It gets louder — everything gets louder. The sounds, the bubble of feelings reading to burst and be reborn again, only bigger, how fucking wet you get for me.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna feel you soakin' me with your cum."

Joel sees why you enjoy it, too.

He smiles, and ascends at seeing the sweet feelings of release washing you from head to toe, and the transcendent look in your eyes when you open them and pull him down for a kiss. You came so hard he lost himself in your orgasm, mixing with his own and he cums a little more at the realization, burying himself deeper in the mess you two have made.

Your whining and panting in can only be felt, so he switches your face to his left side. "Deaf, baby."

You giggle at him. "I didn't say anything."

"I know. Just wanna hear your lil' noises." Joel kisses your neck, and pulls out slowly despite your whiny protests. His fingers come down to between your legs and he should feel self-conscious about the filthy mess he makes there, but when he looks up at your face you're watching him with a look he knows.

I'm starving for you.

Joel seals his lips on yours.

He's never leaving this place. This home he's built where he gets you, and a second chance, and the monthly Sundays with music and you by his side whispering indecent jokes in his ears, and the protective circle you create around him and Ellie ate any minor possibility of outsiders.

Joel's not missing this chance for anything.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup hope you all enjoy it!

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kiss-me-muchoo · 8 months

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: Love in the time of pastries // part two (this one)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ after Miguel stood you up on a date, there’s bad blood. He’s crawling to have your forgiveness, you’re not taking it. Until everything turns into a secret that shocks your Spider Society’s best friends. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_this is long, age gap (legal), idiots to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff, Miguel mandilón, mentions of sex and babies, NO proofread. 𝐀/𝐍_ afterglow and superlove from my playlist<3

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist. ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Whoever was tapping a pen against a binder, was pissing Miguel… heavily.

He was focused to keep looking at the door. You hadn’t come in yet. And you had been out for two days.

When Miguel asked Jess, she said… women stuff.

Even if Miguel denied the gang to be his friends, to his dismay… they had split up.

After the news of the failed date between you and Miguel, there were three sides.

Peter, Pavitr, and Gwen claimed Miguel had made a mistake but deserved another chance. On the other side, Jess, Lyla, and Miles were pretty sure that you were in your whole right to feel hurt and that Miguel should stay away from you.

Finally, the third side; Hobie and Margo. The two individuals were persistent in letting time amend things.

Only that time hadn’t done much in a week.

A lot of spiders are already inside the room.

Jess and Miguel are about to give new announcements and debriefings.

His eyes landed on you. He lacked a spider-sense, but he could hear his own heartbeats thumping on his ears and stomach as you arrived.

You had your suit, but a long dark blue sweatshirt covered half of your body.

Miguel wondered why you were wearing black sunglasses; maybe she was tired, or she thinks she looks bad without makeup, he thinks. Nonsense, she always looks pretty.

Margo is seated beside you, both of you chat and you smile once in a while.

You were trying your best to ignore Miguel. In a matter of a week, you had seen a side of the man you never thought you’d see.

He called your name softly, hoping to get an answer. But it wasn’t the one he desperately needed.

Just a polite reply that seized when you understood it wasn’t related to work.

So you shut his feelings out of your life, it’s for the best.

Things were slightly awkward whenever you had to be around him and your friends. Everyone noticed it. Suddenly you didn’t know how to behave, because things with your friends were okay, but with Miguel were not.

He’s just your boss, nothing else. He never was, is, and would, never be anything related to you besides being your boss.

“Is he looking?” You’d ask Margo. And through her cool mask with a bunch of eyes, she’d shake her head.

“Nah-, oh… he is now” your heart beating faster out of nowhere. The pair of black sunglasses covering your eyes would hide everything.

“Fuck…” you whisper, lowering your head.

“He’s back at talking with Jess” Margo explains. But Peter’s voice makes you forget about Miguel for two seconds.

“What? No Mayday?” you ask in panic. The baby girl was your excuse to avoid Miguel’s gaze.

“Sweet y/n, MJ and I were lucky to make her sleep so easily” She was also your only salvation to keep a sane conversation with your friends. Or else, it would always end with the different opinions everyone had about your current relationship status with Miguel.

“Damn it, Peter. You just ruined my day” you say exaggerating. The man rolls his eyes and Margo is giggling.

“C‘mon, you’ve been in a mood since the… situation with Mig-“

“DONT-… say it” You hurry to pretend to seal Peter’s lips. He shrugs.

“You should forgive him, I’m pretty sure he never meant to “

“Peter, Miguel is not innocent, but only time can heal this…” Margo explained softly. To which Peter rolls his eyes again.

“Time will only set them apart. More than they already are…”

“Yeah, but emotions are not easy and-“ you suddenly hear them, only sinking further into the chair of the room. Which is almost at full capacity now.

“Miguel likes her, y/n likes Miguel…What’s stopping them to-“

“I don’t-“Neither of you two end your sentences, because Jess is demanding silence.

You want to say you don’t like Miguel… but you do. You did since you joined the society. Only that you ignored it because of many factors. And you never thought he would ever look down at you.

But he did, and now you had him constantly begging you.

About the meeting; the go-home machine would change its location, one of the training centers would be refurbished, your bakery would need extra staff and missions would be announced through the gizmos.

Miguel looks at you one last time; you’re giggling with some spiders that get close to talking with you. Peter is there being goofy as usual, and Margo is a good individual.

He’s going towards you, but suddenly someone pulls him from the wrist.

“Don’t go…” Jess says to him.

“Why?” The woman huffs annoyed. Miguel thinks he’s losing time.

“She’s on her period. You don’t wanna mess with her in that state” he’s near the edge of blushing. Of course, he knew about periods, but sometimes he forgot that even you had it once a month.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jess asks playfully.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe you will stop chasing her and let her life like a normal young adult?” Miguel sighed.

When he turned to the door, you were gone.

Of course, he had thought about that. What if he was wrong? Liking you could be dangerous because it was very likely you weren’t even meant to be with him.

And that only made his pain bigger. Just when he had accepted that Gabriella and his late wife could be happy for him.

Still, his heart used to beat ridiculously faster just at the sight of you.

…

There weren’t a lot of bakery tools in the HQ. And you didn’t know how to move around Nueva York. And of course, you wouldn’t ask Miguel to take you on a culinary shopping trip.

So you went home to take a good amount of utensils that might be useful.

The hallways are cleared, good for the pile of bowls, spoons, and spatulas in your arms.

You want to hurry, as Pavitr and Gwen were waiting for you in the Spider’s lounge cabin bakery.

At the end of the meeting, you thought it was better to get yourself busy with the bakery rather than staying home, crying about the cramps and your broken heart.

“Shoot…” you mumble once you have stumbled into someone. Some of the spoons fall all over the floor and you have to bend to get them.

Panic assaults you. The last time you left Pavitr and Gwen in charge, the bakery was full of angry spiders demanding their orders. Cash is being thrown at the teenagers and Pavitr at the verge of tears because of the pressure. You really wanted to hurry up.

“I’m sorry…” you say, only to encounter Miguel, who’s helping you to pick up the spoons.

“It’s okay…” he replies softly, giving you a warm look that you opt for ignoring.

“Listen, y/n…” you look over his broad shoulder, encountering Miles, who was eating an empanada.

“Miles!” The boy turns and you are quick enough to secure all the utensils in your arms before sprinting away from Miguel.

He saw your hands shaking as he spoke. And it only made him sigh tired as you ran away from him. Once again…

That’s when he seriously thought about something.

The canon…

“Lyla?” He asked, and seconds later, the AI appeared beside him.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to my office. And show me things”. He demanded.

“What thing?” She asked, painting her nails.

“Really?” Miguel was tired of the AI forgetting about all the canon events models.

“Oh. Right…”

…

“Show me y/n’s canon events.” Lyla nodded, all the webs and millions of connections appeared around Miguel.

He had never seen your fate. And to be honest, he was nervous.

But he stood rigid and stoic as usual. Until your red web appeared.

All the brothers you could ever have never survived. Your mother had spontaneous abortions, and the babies would be born sick.

All the friends you ever had, always left you. Misunderstandings, envy, miscommunication.

The only love you ever had, died in your arms. He meant to save you, and you needed to protect him, ending in a traumatic catharsis.

Miguel felt like he was seeing a mirror of himself. He was also meant to be alone. Nobody to pat his shoulder and say everything was going to be fine.

He had a brother who passed away.

He never had friends, always betrayed him.

He had a love, but it wasn’t real.

He had his daughter, probably his true love, but wasn’t real either.

“I told you…” Lyla said.

“What thing?”

“She’s meant to be on her own. And begging her will only break her model. Do you want that, Miguel?” His hands landed on his hips. A clear sign of him being stressed.

“When it’s gonna be my turn to be happy then?” He asked, sounding a little more angry than he intended. Lyla sighed, sad to see Miguel like that.

“Okay, calm down. We haven’t finished seeing her canon events” she said trying to spread some hope.

As your web expanded, Miguel saw more details about you; you were thirteen when you were bitten. You had fallen in love with your Peter Parker but he stayed with MJ. Then, at fifteen, your Harry Osborn came, and… it didn’t end well.

“Oh-, wow. Miguel…” Lyla called him. When he looked at the “future”, his jaw almost dropped.

The last line of your web slowly started to grow, and move around the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse.

He saw you would be a famous chef in your earth and Nueva York. But his heart stopped after that…

“No…” he whispered. Destiny could be cruel, but Miguel never believed it; until your web intertwined with his.

“Then-, ups. Guess she wasn’t meant to be on her own after all” Lyla said, but Miguel never replied. He stood there for around five minutes appreciating what just happened.

Suddenly Miguel feels he has a personal purpose.

He’s not sure how two people from different universes could be together. Maybe it was fate beating canon for once.

He’s able to have someone by his side again.

Knowing that it was you; it made him happy. And for the first time in a very long time, Miguel was ready to love again. He didn’t have to think twice, to think if it was correct or not.

“Do not tell y/n” he said to Lyla. The AI nodded.

“Actually, do not tell anyone” Miguel stated, walking out of his own office.

…

It’s 10:40pm and you’re slightly sweating. Your window is open and the air barely soothes the heat.

The module of literature class of the week was so close to being done. You wanted a free weekend to rot in your house while your parents worked.

With the earphones on and loud music playing, you don’t see some pair of your shoes and boxes levitating.

Only the bright portal opening in front of your dresser was enough to make you turn.

You weren’t expecting anyone; you had scheduled a sleepover with Gwen and Margo in about three weeks.

But oh surprise; it was Miguel fucking O’Hara entering your room.

“Miguel?…” Your anxiety levels went up, and you ran to throw your earphones on the bed and close the door of your room.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You whisper-yell to him. His mask never showed any emotions, like him.

Miguel inspects your room shamelessly.

Too many books, perfumes, figures, and toys.

Unexpectedly, he found everything so interesting. Nueva York was all about the future, but here, with you… it felt homely.

“You’re lucky my parents are asleep” Since they claimed the master bedroom was too hot in summer, your parents sleep in the living room with a fan at maximum capacity.

“Oh really?” He mocks, chuckling under the mask.

You look so small and cute in a lavender shirt and pajama set. Wet hair that slowly is turning into curls and bare feet.

“Why are you here?” You ask once again, growing angry. Miguel had never ever been in your house, not even in your neighborhood.

Even if you were shocked, you hadn’t forgiven him.

“I’m not giving up. We need to talk…” After some days, you knew it would be hard to get rid of him. So if there was no turning back, you should listen. Just, maybe…

“God, you just forgot about the fucking date. It didn’t work out, just leave it” You spit as if it was a platitude.

“No. You know it’s more than that, y/n” Miguel was a man of word. And everyone knew that, so yeah… probably he wasn’t lying about liking you.

“Okay. Talk, but say it straight to my face. No mask…” he liked your words.

The mask disappeared, and as always, you weren’t ready to encounter his face.

The first seconds pass with you and him staring at each other.

Hopefully, you two would solve your problems just by looking. It wasn’t the case though…

“Can you hear my heartbeat?” He asks lowly. You are staring at his chest, probably his ribs. Because if you look straight, that’s what you see.

Until you raise your head again, to tremble because of his eyes.

You can hear his heartbeat, almost see the dopamine.

“Are you nervous?” You answer with another question. He smirks, face coming closer to you.

“No. I’m-…falling in love” your eyes shut closed. Your mind, is blank, even when your heart screams the reason you already know.

You’re falling in love too.

“No…Miguel-, you can’t because-“

“Chiquita, cállate. Por favor…” he moves, looking at your room once again.

The more he looked at your belongings, the more he was fascinated by you.

“Can I?…” you nod as he asked permission to seat on the edge of your bed. But soon your exaggeration invaded.

“WAIT!. Just-… Not with the suit on” he chuckled, noticing you were embarrassed to ask him to take off his suit.

He nods, giving a barely visible smile.

“I’ll turn around” you state, looking at your own image in the mirror.

By accident, you looked to the north, encountering Miguel’s back.

His suit was disintegrating; he was naked.

OH GOD-…

You could see his strong back. His light cinnamon skin and perfect muscles.

But as your eyes traveled across his back, your eyes landed on his ass; also naked.

Soon you remembered, he was naked. And all of the situation was happening just in seconds. Your only getaway was closing your eyes.

“You can turn now…” now in normal clothes, he had a hoodie and sweatpants. Making him look beyond desirable. And you hate yourself for thinking that way just after seeing his back… naked.

“What you’re feeling is not foreign to me, y/n,” he said, finally seating on your bed. He looks massive, yet soft. His hands holding the edge of your mattress, and he seems to be inspecting your notes displayed on the bed.

“Loving someone can be dangerous. Especially when you know you’re meant to be alone” The fact that he accepted canon wanted him alone made you feel sorry for him. But it also caused a sting in your heart, since were meant to live the same way.

“Because as much as we try to live the life we desire, we only cause chaos”

“Stop-“ you warn him. Scared to reach the subject of your Harry.

“I’m in your canon events.” In the beginning, you don’t believe him. But quickly, he’s pressing some things on his gizmo.

A quick glance at your canon events; your unborn siblings, friends betraying you, becoming Spider woman, losing Harry, having depression and surviving it, getting injured because of the Spot, and being together with Miguel. In a romantic way…

The man regrets showing you everything so suddenly because he watches you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Since when did you know about this?” You asked coming closer to him. He can see for the first time the tons of moles covering you, your lashes, and clean eyebrows. God, she’s so pretty.

“Yesterday. Lyla showed me” You nod, sighing.

He’s taken aback when you come to stand between his tights, hands grabbing his shoulders and getting painfully close to his face.

“Miguel. Every time I’ve fallen in love, it never ends well, cause-“

“Can you tell the same about me?” The trauma of losing his family was more than enough to understand him. But you’re still very scared, of losing him this time.

“I’m not gonna be able to handle a second time being stood up”

“We’re not talking about the theater anymore. Are we?” You smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Miguel”

“But you won’t. I’ll always come back… for you” Nobody would ever believe what was happening. Miles, Jess, and Lyla would be disappointed with what you were about to do.

“What about our dates? Is it going to be a thing of you to never show up?” He sighed in relief, smiling proudly.

“It was an emergency. I had to “

“Save the universe. Yeah, I know.” You interrupt him with another smile.

Again. You are just staring at each other like idiots. You don’t even remember he’s in your house. You’re in pajamas and it's the end of the summer.

“So you’re one of my canon events” he nods, confirming the news to you.

“Are we good? Are you ready for this?” His question makes you blush.

“Maybe? Yeah… I think so” Now you are free to caress his wide shoulders. He closes his eyes because it relaxed him.

“I’m sorry for the date, chiquita” You nod.

“With the news, the date is so long in the past”

“I’ll make it up to you. Now, it’s a promise” he can’t lie again. Not when canon is blessing your possible relationship with him.

You look at his lips, and the desire for him comes again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now…” you say, leaning closer. He’s eager for whatever you’re about to give him. Cause he was pleased just by you looking at him.

“Kiss me…” he accepts.

So you do it. Slowly, you melt your lips with his in a sweet kiss. His lips are soft, and his hands grasp your hips, moving you closer to him.

Probably two minutes into kissing, you start giggling.

“What?” Miguel asks on your lips.

“We can’t tell the others. Not yet…”

“I’d like to be your secret boyfriend,” he says.

“Boyfriend?” Your arched brow makes him blush.

“Well…”

“My soon-to-be boyfriend” you correct him, brushing his hair, and noticing how soft it is.

For the first time, Miguel is not afraid of showing emotions. He isn’t afraid of love anymore.

…

It’s funny, sweet, and goofy how you have to hide your new relationship with Miguel.

“Why were helping Miguel so late now?” Jess asks suspiciously.

Now, you stayed with Miguel doing everything and nothing. Mainly talking while organizing anomalies that needed to be sent home.

“I’m a coding girl. I’m being useful” You know Jess doesn’t believe you.

“I thought you were avoiding him”

“It’s been a month since that, Jess. I’m a mature woman” she giggles.

“In that case, that doesn’t explain why he was at your house the other night”

“What?”

“Gwen. You were having a sleepover and Miguel appeared out of nowhere” You roll your eyes.

“I forgot my mask, dear”

“Girl, if you’re lying to me-“

Miguel calls from your gizmo. You smile happily.

“I need help over here” he’s fighting a Mysterio on Penni’s universe. You know a date after the fight was granted.

“Duty calls…” you say to Jess.

As soon as you turn left, your gizmo is on again, calling Miguel.

“Do you still need help?”

“Not really, bonita. But what about a quick shower and we head to dinner?” You smile again.

“Sounds interesting”

“Te amo mucho, chiquita”

“Yo más, corazón” you reply feeling all the love in your chest.

Certainly, you were living a fever dream. Miguel O’Hara was your boyfriend.

“No. Yo más…”

“No-“

“Okay, enough. You, humans, get so obsessed with loving and all of that…” Lyla says appearing in your left shoulder.

“Are the hallways clear?” You ask her.

“Yep. Clear and free”

You open a portal, and since nobody can see, you head to Miguel’s place in Nueva York.

Jess saw Lyla talking to you. And she’s not convinced. And she knows who should receive an intervention.

…

Lyla was painting her nails when she was attacked by the most annoying gang; Hobie, Gwen, Peter, Miles, Mayday, and even Jess by their side.

“We deserve an explanation,” Peter says.

“Woah. What are you talking about? The AI asks.

“Miguel and y/n. Are they together?” Gwen asks now.

Lyla sighs, the little desk beside her disappearing as she descended to the gang.

“Miguel was very clear to keep his private life… private”

“So are they together or not?” Hobie asks, crossing his arms. As usual, the icebreaker was straight to the point.

“As Miguel’s second hand I-“

Someone called; Miguel of course.

“Lyla, archive today's reports and turn off the machine in my lab, please,” he says before shutting down the communication.

“Wow, he said please” Lyla points out.

“Look, location says… Tacos varios?” Miles asks with terrible Spanish pronunciation.

“It’s here in Nueva York,” Peter says excitedly, making Mayday giggle and shooting webs to nowhere.

“Let’s go!” Gwen says confidently.

Lyla only rolls his eyes.

“Crap…” she says.

“I knew you were aware of this” Jess points at the AI.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Lyla replies pretending to be cleaning her heart-shaped glasses.

…

Miguel knows you’re not listening to him. You are distracted by the smell of tacos.

“Did you hear anything I said, hermosa?”

“Hmm?” You ask looking at another couple eating an order of tacos al pastor. The pineapple slices look so juicy, and the beef looked so fresh. Your mouth was watering.

“I said if you wanted an agua fresca”

“Oh yeah. Horchata, please. We can share if you want to” he nods, standing up.

The place was humble and comfortable, even with the line of people waiting outside.

Even with the group of spiders in disguise looking from another table. Yeah, they followed you and Miguel.

“This food is so good,” peter said with his mouth full.

“Peter, don’t talk with your mouth full” the man shrugs as he looks at his baby in Jess’s arms.

“They look… friendly,” Miles says.

“Friendly, huh?” Hobie hints at something else. No one notices.

Miguel comes back with two plates; your tacos a vapor and his mulitas. A big cup of agua de horchata too, which looks small in his hand even when the cup was the biggest in the restaurant.

“Do you like onions?” your boyfriend asked you.

“I do. But I’d rather not eat today, or else… no kisses for you” Miguel rolls his eyes, chuckling.

Everything was fine. You were amazing and he felt happy again.

“Fair enough…”

“Oh, hey…uhm-. My parents are going out for the weekend. Do you wanna stay with me?” You were nervous about the question. Since the relationship was new, you didn’t want to push anything.

“I could stay with you…” neither of you was suggesting sex because neither of you needed to know you were in love with each other.

“Great. We can make dinner, bake something together, and watch movies. I can show you my books while we do skincare” Again, he rolled his eyes.

But he could only think one thing; I love my silly girlfriend.

“I don’t do skincare,” he said eating his mulita.

“Don’t worry, I don’t make it annoying…” you don’t want to finish your food because you’ll likely get another order and you didn’t want to get bloated. Not during an amazing date.

“I trust you, bonita” you giggled.

The spider group was getting impatient, all you did with Miguel was talking and laughing. Jess pointed out that Miguel never shared his food, but now, he was sharing his beverage with you.

“That’s weird,” she said, but nobody was listening since Peter ordered another order of tacos de canasta. Jess only rolled her eyes and started seeing what else happened.

“Oh look, they’re going out” Hobie was so fixated on his taco that he didn’t even hear what Gwen said.

You dumped the trash and Miguel waited for you at the entrance to get out.

You took his hand and it felt so right. His fingers responded and intertwined with yours.

“What now?” He asked.

“Dunno, Is there space for something sweet on your stomach?” Miguel smirked. Of course, you would want something sweet.

“There’s a bakery at the end of the avenue” Smiling, you nodded to him.

Unbeknownst to you and your boyfriend, you’re being followed by the nosy spider gang.

“I’m going home… I bet they’re dating and… at the end, I’m happy for them” Jess said.

“Are you leaving? Really?” Peter accused her.

“I miss my baby and man. Bye…” and with that, she opened a portal and left.

The bakery Miguel mentioned was at full capacity. A little line to get inside and the order was visible.

“Get in the line. I’ll get something for you” you nod confused. Miguel leaves and it’s impossible to lose him as his broad and tall figures move across the crowd of Nueva York.

You have an eye on the piles of cannolis and cheesecakes. Miguel paid for the food, which you would spend on dessert.

You remember your debit card doesn’t exist in Nueva York, but you had some cash valid on earth- 929.

Without seeing him, you know Miguel is back with you. He kissed your head before wrapping his arms around you, and a little bouquet of poppies in front of your appeared.

“Miguel!” He chuckles, kissing your head once again.

“I wanted to give you flowers since the first time”

“These are beautiful. Thanks, mi amor” You turn to grab the bouquet and kiss him deeply. Miguel found himself surprised to see how fast he had changed.

He deepens the kiss, some people in the line might send judgmental looks at him and you. But he doesn’t care.

He’s lost on your lips, concentrated on making you feel loved and happy.

Until he listened a well-known voice.

“Thank god you two are here” Miguel and you stop kissing only to meet Lyla.

“Lyla? What are you doing here” you ask looking at the little AI. Miguel must be feeling so angry. He was always very clear to not be bothered on his free day, except in case of a real big emergency.

“Why are you here? I’ve been strictly clear about-“

“I’m sorry. I accidentally showed your location when you called and the kids heard and-“

“I KNEW IT!” You’re not understanding anything. Miguel huff annoyed and rolls his eyes at the sight of his least favorite coworkers.

“All of you! Ugh-…” your boyfriend starts, pointing at Lyla, Hobie, Peter, Mayday, Gwen, and Miles.

“Me tienen hasta la madre. What are you doing here?” Suddenly there’s only one person left after you to buy a treat. You are so confused and Miguel already is thinking of ways to apologize for another half-failed date.

“You’re dating, right?” Gwen asks covering her mouth and smiling along with Miles.

“You two have to be dating. The hands holding, sharing drinks, and that kiss. Wow, you looked so adorable holding her cheek” You’re blushing, Miguel is at the edge of being flustered.

“Peter. Shut up…” Lyla warns Peter.

“Yeah. We’re dating…We just wanted to keep it private… for a little” You can’t help to laugh when everyone starts cheering.

“But…How? After the theater thing we thought-“

“Miguel is in my canon events,” you say before entering the shop and leaving everyone in shock.

Your boyfriend only stares there, awkwardly.

“Tell Jess, I can’t believe this!” Peter yelled at Lyla, who was very nervous wondering how was Miguel.

The 6’9 foot tall man wanted to activate his suit, grab you by the waist and get you out of his earth and take you to your beautiful house.

You are paying for a little box of sweets, and he can’t wait for you to get out.

“This is amazing. I’m so happy for you” Peter pressures Miguel, smiling and caressing his shoulder.

“You two already have plans or what?…” Hobie asks for the first time.

Miguel sends him a bad look, and thankfully, you’re out. Standing beside Miguel to hug his arm.

“We’re going slow, guys. But yeah, canon indicates it’s safe for us to be together” Your touch is what is keeping him from yelling at some teenagers and an adult once again.

“Oh yeah, canon indicates that… in about 18 months, a baby could pop in from these two” Lyla spills like nothing.

“WHAT?” you basically scream in the middle of the street.

Miguel’s eyes only widened before he exchanged flustered looks with you.

A baby? In a year and a half? No way.

“Oh-, ups. I didn’t show you that part” the AI said to Miguel.

He looked Lyla like wanted to kill her. Which made the little AI disappear immediately.

A long conversation with would happen eventually.

“Well, congratulations,” Miles says giving you a hug. You accept it, but you’re still in shock.

“Mystery solved. Can we go home now?” Hobie asks sarcastically.

Miguel agrees with Hobie for the first time.

After some awkward goodbyes, you are alone with Miguel again.

“That was weird but funny. Don’t be too harsh on them on Monday, please” he sighs, following back to his place.

“They can’t simply invade our privacy and walk out like nothing, y/n”

“Well yeah, but… They are our friends and they mean well”

“Correction. They are your friends” he says opening the door of his building for you. Is a futuristic apartment complex. And Miguel owns the biggest of course.

“Deny it as much as you want, but they are our friends” Miguel shrugs.

You already have a lot of things in his place. Your parents didn’t know yet. They would likely disapprove but easily get used to it. Especially since Miguel is the best boyfriend.

And in a month, he had convinced you to love so hard again.

“Chiquita, I want this weekend to be just about us. Can we?” You nod, taking your slippers and going straight to wash your hands. He watches you put the flowers in a cup, it makes him feel like he’s achieving domesticity with you. Miguel gets some forks and plates for the pastries you bought. And soon, you are snuggling on the couch with the pastries and glasses of white wine.

“What do you think about Lyla and what she said?” You were dying to know. But too scared to actually find out.

“She’s not lying. And… if that’s our future, I’ll be happy” There’s a lot to know about each other, but you like how everything was developing.

“All those fears of being alone or losing you are over. I have you and whatever it is, it’s gonna be fine”

“Ay, Miguel. Te amo tanto, corazón” he smiles, leaning to leave his plate on the little table of the living room.

“Yo mas, mi vida” Whoever you two were in the past was gone.

These new versions were eager to be lovers.

_____________________________________________

+Next fics are_ reputation (Miguel’s version) fic and the long time waited hurt me it’s okay part two

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @poppyflower-22 @ggwonderwoman @bruhhhhhh1234 @seasonofthenerd @g0oshtt @luvrrish @docs-dani @irongardenermaker @berlinswifey @hobiseightbracelet @corpsebridenightamare @asmi-bae @love4saturn @yellooaaa @currentlyinflames @sukjko @carmilla01 @ladyrosemone @wilmontana987

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

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imaginespazzi · 3 months

Text

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you)

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever.

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging.

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members.

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence.

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs.

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net.

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully.

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn.

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth.

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless.

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them.

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness. The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball.

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins.

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her.

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them.

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers.

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn.

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more.

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away.

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto.

“And if- if I was- if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want.

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.”

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest.

“Stop,” Azzi whispers.

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both).

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl.

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free.

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that.

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows.

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs.

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment.

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes.

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other.

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can’t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud.

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy.

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call.

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully.

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction.

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands.

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers.

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile.

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further.

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her.

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously.

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration.

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits.

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender.

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige.

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room.

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body.

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers, “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back.

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now.

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further.

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige.

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds.

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane.

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves.

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words.

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face.

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked.

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it.

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck.

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused.

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows.

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look.

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else.

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them.

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing.

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door.

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.”

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door.

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie.

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile.

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly.

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane.

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it.

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?”

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh.

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is.

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar.

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning.

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed.

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently.

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court. And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time.

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it.

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us)

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it.

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that.

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place.

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off.

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part.

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers.

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other.

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second.

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found.

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in.

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering.

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves.

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return.

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard.

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles.

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight.

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring.

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms.

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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thegettingbyp2 · 3 months

Note

Needy peacekeeper!coryo finally gets a letter from you after no hearing from you the entire time he’s out in district 12, but it’s only photos

Can't Wait to Come Home

A/N: I've changed this slightly so it's not really smutty but I hope it's okay and that you like it :)

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Coriolanus was going insane. He’d been a Peacekeeper in District 12 for coming up to a year and he’d heard absolutely nothing from you. After being shipped off to District 12 without a chance to explain to you what was happening, he’d written you letter upon letter, trying to explain to you what had happened, almost begging you for a response, but he receiving nothing for you. A part of him was angry. Angry at you for ignoring his letters and shutting him out but there was a bigger part of him that was scared (not that he’d ever admit it). Scared that you’d moved on from him, that finding out he’d gone to District 12 had tainted him in your eyes and you’d found someone else from the Capitol.

Even though he still sent letter to you, they were more infrequent and he was worried that, if he had to stay there for much longer, he’d give up and stop sending them full stop. So when, like every week, he went to check to see if he had any mail, he was surprised to see a letter waiting for him and his heart sped up when he saw your neat handwriting on the envelope.

He rushed back to his bunk as quickly as he could, without making it obvious how excited he was to finally have a letter from you. Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the room was empty, he sat on the edge of his bed and practically tore the envelope open, his pulse quickening and a small groan erupting from his chest when he saw what was inside.

Inside the envelope was 3 pictures of you and a small slip of paper. The first picture was of the two of you only a couple of days before he left, when everything in his life seemed perfect, he had the most beautiful girl by his side, he was well on-track to winning the Plinth Prize and he had his whole future ahead of him. He had his arm wrapped around your waist and you were standing on your toes, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. As he looked at the photo, he swore he could still feel the imprint of your lips on his skin.

The second photo was only your face pointed at the camera, bright red lipstick on your lips as you blew a kiss to the camera, a soft smile playing on your features.

It was the third and final picture had Coriolanus groaning as he felt his cock harden in his trousers. The third photo was a simple full length photo of you naked. You were sprawled out on top of what he recognised to be his bed in the Capitol, your hair spread out around you and your lips painted that same shade of red.

The piece of paper that was also in the envelope simply red You’re coming home x, but Coriolanus didn’t get much of a chance to understand what you meant because Sejanus into the room at the same time, causing him to quickly shove the photos and note back in the envelope.

‘What you got there?’ Sejanus asked.

‘My girl finally wrote me,’ Coriolanus replied, trying and failing to keep the grin off of his face.

‘What did she say?’

‘I’m going home,’ he said quietly, not quite believing it. He quickly excused himself before making his way to a phone, desperate to hear your voice.

You picked up after one ring and the moment he saw your face, he felt his whole body relax as a grin took over his face. ‘There she is,’ he said quietly as he just looked at you for a couple of seconds.

‘Coryo!’ you exclaimed, returning his smile. ‘I take it you got my envelope.’

‘Is it true?’ he asked, not wanting to believe it and get his hopes up. ‘Am I actually coming home?’

‘You are, baby,’ you replied softly. ‘In a couple of days. This time next week we’ll be together again,’ you said, not even attempting to hide the excitement in your voice.

‘Why haven’t you written until now?’ he asked, a small frown appearing on his brow that had your heart clenching in your chest. ‘I thought that you’d given up on us.’

‘Never,’ you replied quickly, almost cutting him off. ‘I wanted to write, I have a stack of letters that I’ve written to you but I was told that I wasn’t allowed to write to you. Dean Highbottom said that if I sent you a letter, he’d make sure it got destroyed before you could read it.’ At your words, Coriolanus felt a hot flame of hate for his old Academy professor curl in his stomach for keeping you away from him. ‘He came to visit the other day and told me that you were coming home and that I could be the one to tell you, I’m sorry, Coryo.’

‘You don’t have anything to be sorry about,’ he reassured you, wanting more than anything to hold you in his arms. ‘Though, when I get home, I will be making you sorry for sending me those photos when I can’t have you this second.’

You giggled softly, your cheeks flushing slightly. ‘I thought you might like those. I had to give you a taste of what you had waiting for you back home.’

‘The moment I get home, I’m getting you in that bedroom and we’re not leaving for days,’ he said darkly, his eyes staring holes through you through the phone and you couldn’t stop of shiver that ran down your spine. ‘We have a year’s worth of catching up after all.’

‘I’m going to hold you to that, though I am going to miss your hair. It was easier to hold on to’ you replied, smiling cheekily at him.

Coriolanus felt his face heat up at your comment as his need for you grew even stronger and he tried as hard as he could to not adjust himself in his trousers. ‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Fuck, I can’t wait to come home,’ he muttered, letting his head fall forward to rest on the top of the frame.

‘Not long now, baby.’

‘No. And then nothing is going to rip us apart again,’ Coriolanus said as he felt that flicker of hate he felt for Highbottom earlier, strengthen.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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rrenzwrld · 4 months

Text

sound of my heart III

third part! read second part here

i do kinda liked how it turned out but the ending is free to kinda let you think about how you’d wanna go forward. would you let ony prove his words to you? or would you go ahead and let him go to move onto someone more appreciative? but anyways…enjoy!

[ ony!❤️ ]: hey

once you got a chance to look at your phone, you instantly regretted it when you saw a text from ony. deja and taylor could see your shift in energy and leaned over to see what was causing it.

deja rolled her eyes. “girl, ignore it.” that was easier said that done. you knew you were supposed to ignore his message just like he ignored you, but you also wanted to respond in hopes that he’d explain himself.

“you know she’s not gonna do that…” taylor said.

“maybe i should just see what he has to say.” you opened the message but just began staring at it. deja smiled slyly at you.

“can i do i—“

“no.” you snapped. you sat there and thought about what to say until you realized that you’d rather get an explanation from him vocally instead of through text. “should i facetime or call him?” you turned to deja and taylor.

“call him. so he won’t know we’re here.” you nodded before texting him and telling him to call you. deja turned down the music playing in the car as the phone rang throughout.

“yo.” deja rolled her eyes and fake gagged.

“yeah. why you text me?” you weren’t gonna waste anymore time.

“i missed you.”

“i couldn’t tell. you haven’t texted me in weeks, ony.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i just…i don’t know.”

“you still never told me who she was.” deja and taylor were silently exciting themselves in the background, proud of you for standing your ground.

“i thought you forgot about that—“

“oh so there was another bitch?”

“just somebody who bought from connie but he told me to give the shit to her because he had something to do so i did.”

“so why did you smell like her that day? and why couldn’t you be honest back then?”

“she was hugging all up on me but i had to push her off cause she was doin too much. and i never told you that because i knew you’d be on some shit.”

“on some shit because i don’t want my man to smell like other girls? i loved you ony and the last thing i would’ve wanted was to think you’d cheat on me! why’d you let me go on thinking that—“

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

“and then you go weeks without talking to me, having me think i did something wrong and making excuses for you.”

“y/n—“

“you’ve never listened to me before so i don’t even know why i wasted my time that day. i should’ve just let you think you can go and do whatever like you used to doing.” you were getting mad now if you weren’t already and could feel your throat knotting up.

“i love you, y/n. y’know that?”

“do i? because i thought love was reassuring and you haven’t given that to me.”

“i can’t read your fuckin mind. if you don’t tell me—“

“i shouldn’t have to tell you anything! i don’t ask you for shit, ony. nothing but to know and be shown that you love me and what do i get? ignored for weeks? got me overthinking and shit.”

“i’m sorry.”

“is that all you have to say?”

“i never meant to hurt you, truthfully.”

“so why did you?”

“i should’ve paid attention to you and what you needed from me more, and i’m sorry for that. i was negligent and i really wanna promise you that it’ll never happen again.” ony’s words were luring you in but you weren’t sure if you should’ve surrendered.

“thank you.”

“we good?” you didn’t know that yet.

“i don’t know…”

“i understand completely…i do wanna see you though.”

“too bad, bye ony.” and with that, you hung up. not even anticipating what he was gonna say next. you were no longer gonna let him think he can say what he should do without actually taking initiative to carry out those actions. hearing him say it was nice but you had to see it to believe it.

“sooo you not gonna ask him about him being on that bitch’s phone in chipotle?” deja questioned.

you shrugged. “nope.”

#aot #aot x reader #black reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader

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demigoddessqueens · 7 months

Note

Bonjour ma chérie! *kisses your hand*

May I be so bold as to ask you from the ask game sun and moon for Astarion and Tav?

Yessss!! I have so much love and ideas for this!!

A/n - these are going to be all over the place from Act 1 to Act 3

SUMMARY: The first time he met you and the five times Astarion wanted to kiss you. a lonely soul realizes what he has been longing for when you cross paths by chance.

Also posted here on my ao3

The Sun and Moon are never meant to be together. They always were, and always have been opposing powerful forces of nature. One that burns so brightly and brings life to the world, whereas the other signifies the end of what one is familiar with. So why did this affair seem any different?

The first time he wanted to kiss you was when you willingly offered your neck and blood to him. It was so vulnerable on your end, and as much as he could like the self bastard he was, Astarion sated his bloodlust with just your neck. He turned your head so that you wouldn’t have to see him.

The second time Astarion wanted to kiss you was when the cracks began to break in his barriers. I don't know how to be with someone, he said but you were still determined. Your hug had no ulterior motives to it. If his heart hadn’t stopped when he was turned by Cazzador, it felt as if it did when you touched him with care. He wanted to kiss your neck and let the trail continue but just held you instead.

The third time lingered before his confrontation with the one that took his life and tormented him for all these centuries. Would it be the first of many, or was this the last time he would feel your lips’ warmth?

The fourth time was in the aftermath of his triumph over Cazzador. Only there was a part of you that hesitated when he tried to touch you. You felt a twinge of pity for flinching away, but it was all too intense at once. There was the guilt that ate at your soul when you made plans to leave, and the words were right at the tip of Astarion’s tongue. Would kissing you make you stay? Or was it a damned selfish part on his end if he tried to force you to stay?

By the fifth time, you had crossed paths with him again. The old bittersweet memories came up between you two again. It was thought best to meet in a tavern but nothing was ever the same between you both. Even when the conversations appeared casual, your hands were itching towards each other until fingers then hands joined together. Then he pulled you close, and you didn’t deny his touch or when you felt him kiss you.

The Sun and Moon are never destined to be near each other, but whenever did the two of you ever stay the course of fate? A love such as this was always meant do defy the impossible.

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dodger-chan · 4 months

Text

Look we all have to write the steddie flirting through DnD scene don't we?

Consider this a Christmas gift if you celebrate and something to do while everything's closed if you don't.

“How touchable are my boobs in this?”

“I think I’m falling in love with Eddie.” Steve replied. He had not meant to say that. He’d been helping Robin pick out clothes for her date with Vickie that night, and the thought had just hit him. Steve tried again. “Your boobs look great. Vickie will definitely want to slip her hands under that shirt.”

“Perfect.” Robin threw herself down on her bed next to Steve. “Let's go back a few seconds. Why do you think you’re falling for Eddie?”

“I stole one of Dustin’s old DnD manuals and I’ve been looking through it to figure out how their nerd game works. I bought my own copy of Sacred Heart. And I'm trying to read The Hobbit for the third time.”

He was forty-eight pages in, the farthest he’d made it yet. He might make it through the whole book this time, now that he’d decided he could skip the songs.

“Oh, it’s like when you studied for the SATs with Nancy!”

“Even though I’d already taken the exam. Exactly.” Steve sighed. “It’s been going on for weeks. How did I not notice until now?”

“Because you’ve spent most of your life purposefully ignoring it when you liked a guy.” Robin ruffled his hair. “Hey, at least finding him hot isn’t news, right?”

“Yay for small victories, I guess.” Steve fixed the mess Robin had made. “But what do I do about it?”

----------

A part of Steve had wanted to show up in his rattiest t-shirt and jeans, to do his best to blend in with the rest of the club. But it wasn’t like the other guys didn’t know who he was. And Steve wanted to find out if Eddie might like him, not some nerd that looked like him. So Steve wore a polo shirt and his best jeans. The only way he could have looked less like he belonged was if he’d pulled his letterman out from the back of his closet.

“Are you playing with us Harrington?” Eddie asked when Steve sat down at the table.

“Um, is that okay? Bobbie had a thing come up and she asked me to sub in for her.” Robin’s thing had been a second date with Vickie. At his house, so the girls could kiss without worrying about getting caught. Steve needing to spend four hours in the Wheeler basement gave them plenty of alone time, too. “I might need some help with the math, but Robs gave me a character sheet and some basic instructions.”

Eddie and his friends exchanged looks. Steve really hoped they weren’t going to tell him to get lost.

“Steve? You’re playing?” Dustin practically threw himself down the stairs when he saw Steve. “How did we finally convince you? Was it Robin? Where is she?”

“Robin’s busy. I’m her sub. If Munson’s cool with it?”

Faced with Dustin’s pleading eyes, Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

----------

Steve mostly kept quiet at first, observing how Eddie ran the game, what strategies the kids preferred to use. Mostly he let them make the decisions and when they were in combat he hit the biggest enemy with his morningstar until it stopped moving.

It felt kind of familiar, but way less painful.

After a little while, Steve thought he had the hang of it enough to try Robin’s plan.

“Wait a second,” he stopped Mike before they attacked the mysterious cloaked figure. “Isn’t everybody’s health kind of low?”

“We don’t have time to rest and heal, Steve.” Mike was being weirdly patient with him. “The enemy has already seen us.”

“Yeah, but I could try charming him instead of fighting. Robin said her character was supposed to be charming.” She’d had this long explanation about charisma that Steve hadn’t followed but she’d summed it up as flirt with the NPCs. “If I flirt with him, maybe he’ll let us by without a fight.”

“He’s a guy, Steve,” Dustin pointed out. “Robin’s character is also a guy.”

“Gay people exist.” One of the older Hellfire members, Steve thought his name was Gareth, spoke up. He hadn’t expected any of Eddie’s friends to help him out with this. The three of them had their eyes on Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t saying anything.

“He’s seduced at least one girl in every town we’ve passed through,” Lucas explained. “Usually two or three.”

“It’s kind of a running joke,” Will added.

“He could like both.” Steve said it with a casualness he did not feel. “Some people do.”

“Buckley’s not going to be upset you made her character a little gay?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, she won’t mind.”

“Then roll for seduction.”

Right as he rolled, another of Eddie’s friends - Steve had missed his name during introductions - bumped into the table. The dice fell onto the floor and one rolled under the sofa.

This was apparently a catastrophe.

“We won’t be able to get the die without moving it! We’ll never know what you rolled!” Dustin whined.

“Couldn’t I just roll it again?” This was, for some reason, the worst question he could have asked, as it sparked a lecture on the sacred and inviolable nature of the dice rolls.

“Have him role play it,” Jeff suggested. Eddie shot his friend a dirty look.

Steve briefly wondered if Robin had been talking with the older members of Hellfire, but that didn’t seem likely. They wouldn’t have any reason to help him out.

“I don’t mind.”

“If that’s what you want.” Eddie shrugged. “Show us you can be as charming as your character.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m exactly as charming as Sir Dingus des Cheveux.” Steve wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or disturbed by how much Robin’s character was based on him. Though it certainly made playing him easier. “Tell me what I see.”

“I already did. Cloaked figure, no obvious weapon.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’d notice if I was looking for a fight. Can I see his hair? His face? His eyes?”

“Um, his hood is up, so no.” Right. Eddie was going to make this difficult.

“Okay so I step forward and I stand, uh, shit. It’s hard to describe.” Steve could be just as difficult. “Can we act it out?”

“Act it out?”

“I mean the NPCs are all you, right? So if you could stand in for this guy?” A lot of flirting was physical and, for Steve, automatic. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing until he was doing it.

“Do it, Eddie.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always wanted to see The Hair at work.”

Eddie’s friends egged him on. Lucas nodded along with them. Dustin had grabbed a blank sheet of paper and seemed prepared to take notes. Will seemed somewhere between uncomfortable and fascinated. Only Mike looked unhappy about it, but that was just how Mike was.

Date a guy’s sister for a year and not even saving his life could make him smile at you.

Eddie rose from his seat.

“Okay, Harrington. Charm me.”

Steve stepped forward, until he was almost close enough to touch Eddie.

“Hi,” he said, tilting his head to one side. He smiled a slightly goofy smile that he knew invited teasing. “What’s a nice boy like you doing in a dungeon like this?”

Eddie burst out laughing.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re starting with?”

“Is that you or the character laughing?” Steve asked.

“Both.”

“You have a beautiful laugh.” Steve spoke in character. Eddie stopped laughing, surprised. “I bet your face is just as lovely.”

“He pushes his hood back to reveal the face of a drow. The face is not lovely, but scarred. One particularly nasty scar on his right cheek creates the illusion of a smile. He says, You lose.”

“I don't know about that.” Steve stepped a little closer and lifted his hand. “May I?”

Eddie nodded.

Steve pushed Eddie's hair away from his face, lightly brushing Eddie's scars. Taking care that the back of his thumb caressed the most prominent one, the one that tugged down the corner of Eddie's lip and gave his smile a permanent look of irony.

“You have the most expressive eyes I've ever seen,” Steve murmured. Eddie pulled back.

Shit. That wasn't in character. Steve tried again.

“I think I won, but I wouldn’t want to contradict anyone with such enchanting eyes.” He dropped the smile but kept the teasing tone. “What do I lose?”

“Your life,” Eddie replied, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

“You don't want to kill me.” Steve’s smile widened. He'd won this round as soon as Eddie had laughed. “If you’re having trouble thinking up a forfeit, can I suggest a kiss?”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie said with another laugh. “You have successfully seduced the drow. He does not attack your party, or summon reinforcements. Your one night stand allows for a long rest. Because the drow is a cleric of Loviatar, you only recover half your health.”

“Worth it.” He winked at Eddie before sitting back down at the table. “Sir Dingus had an excellent time. Is there a fantasy version of asking for a guy’s number? In case I have to sub in for Rob again?”

He didn’t want to saddle Robin’s character with a boyfriend when Robin had been using him to flirt with girls, but he didn’t want to leave Eddie with the impression that Steve moved on from people as quickly as Sir Dingus did.

“The life of an adventurer is hardly conducive to long term relationships.” That did not answer Steve’s question. “But, he tells you his name is Ghauntel Kenduis and should he see you again, he will remember yours.”

--------

Dungeons and Dragons was not the worst way to spend an afternoon. The combat was kind of boring, and the bickering over what the party was going to do next made Steve sympathize with the guys who’d stuffed nerds into lockers.

Okay, DnD was not his thing at all and the only thing he really enjoyed about it was getting to flirt with Eddie.

Steve slid his hand over the scars on Eddie's neck. Slowly, carefully, he brought their lips together for a kiss.

Well, Eddie’s characters, which wasn’t exactly the same thing. And after that first time, he hadn’t had to do nearly as much roleplaying. But it was still fun.

“You kept breaking character,” Eddie commented when the game was finished for the day.

“What do you mean?” The kids had, unsurprisingly, vanished upstairs as soon as it was time to clean up. A little more surprising was that the rest of Hellfire had also cleared out, leaving Steve and Eddie alone.

“When you would flirt. You kept losing the characters. You’ve never played before, so flirting with me instead of my NPCs would be an easy mistake to make. Or…” Eddie trailed off. “Nah, you’re just bad at the game.”

“I mean, I am. And breaking character wasn’t something I tried to do on purpose.” Steve stepped close to Eddie again. Close enough to reach out and touch him. “But I kept doing it because I wanted to flirt with you.”

“Why?” Eddie asked. “I'm a freak and kind of an asshole a lot of the time. And I’m not exactly a pretty face these days.”

“Well, it turns out that weird and passionate nerds are kinda my type.” And Steve was sick of dating girls who weren't his type. “May I?”

Wordlessly, Eddie nodded.

Again, Steve pushed Eddie's hair back, tucking it behind his ear. Eddie leaned into Steve's touch.

“You really do have the most expressive eyes. I wish you didn't feel like you have to hide them.”

#stranger things #steddie #obligatory steve plays dnd fic #my fic

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monzamash · 1 year

Text

say yes to life — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.2k summary – a trip down memory lane. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language) prompt – 'you look good like this' from @percervall 💖 a/n – the third instalment of the #monzamashspecial and exists in the red desert universe (throwback to where this little blog began) x title inspired by the gang of youths song. masterlist

You wanted so badly to go back to the place you fell in love with him. Missing the way the campfire smoke blowing in the wind made your eyes water and the screams of elation coming from the water out in the distance. Daniel loved so freely; pottering around the campsite making sure everyone was happy, content, having the time of their lives. Especially you.

The two of you had only been seeing each other for a few months, a whirlwind romance turning all the traditional rules of dating on their head. He wanted to see you in his world, away from the lavish hotels and the fast-paced lifestyle that you both hated so much. Away from civilisation as you knew it, with him, alone in the wilderness with a case of Dry, singing around bonfires and sharing kisses hidden under the stars.

No manmade structures as far as the eye could see – just the handsome man who had picked you up and swept you off your feet to the other side of the world. Returning home.

“It’s so serene out here… Peaceful.”

Your unspoken wish was to stay out here forever with him, tasting the sea salt on his lips and feeling the sand beneath your sunburnt feet. Even though it was quintessentially Daniel, right down to the number 3 painted on the side of his buggy, it also felt like you. Like you belonged in his world, the missing part to life's puzzle.

Somehow, he had found you amongst the chaos, in the hoards of people taking everything from him. Every ounce of energy he had to give. But you never took anything. And he knew in that moment that this place would never feel the same without you in it.

You were his home.

“I knew you would love it.”

He whispered it into your windswept hair as you walked along the coast, hand in hand, watching his nieces and nephew splashing in the shallow water; zinc covering every inch of their little faces.

Daniel had promised you a night alone together before you left Perth for your road trip to Coral Bay, wording up his brother in law that the two of you would be sneaking off down the coast for some alone time.

I wanna show her everything, man; he'd confessed, feeling the pressure to make every second count, right down to the minute. You were laid-back and much to his surprise, his exact energy match but he wanted you to know him. Like, really know him. He wanted to tell you all of his silly little stories like the time he nearly cut his toe open on that rock over there, or when he swore he saw the ghost of Harold Holt out beyond the rip. He wanted to share it all with you.

And while he was worried about giving you the full Daniel Ricciardo experience, you were just basking in the chance to get to know him like this. God, it felt personal, intentional the way he pointed out little fishing spots that he and his dad would sit all day in the summer holidays, chasing the shade and shooting the shit; almost always catching nothing.

“One time I caught a crayfish but it was undersize so had to throw it back… Absolute heartbreak and I lied to everyone at school when we got back in Jan – said it was this big.”

Daniel held his arms out as wide as they would go, chest out and a smile as bright as the glowing sun above, “They all saw straight through me.”

Those small, insignificant stories he thought he was telling meant the world to you. It was a glimpse into the life of a man you were falling in love with, getting closer and closer to with each passing moment. They were off the cuff tales of his childhood, mentions of Michelle and his mum making lime cordiale icy-poles, homemade no less and each one made you smile wider. Buzzing with the thought that maybe, right now, you were making memories that you would pass down to your kids.

Someday.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Maybe we should have a safe word…”

“The same one we use when we...”

You didn’t need to stop his sentence, knowing that he knew better than to finish it with his 8-year-old nephew sitting on his lap – the smirking face showing his hand. The deadpanned look you were giving him made him laugh as he leaned down and turned on the van, shoving the gear stick into place so you didn’t plummet to your death down the cliffside.

The feeling was evergreen when you casted your mind back to that day, remembering the way Jonty jumped down from Daniel’s lap and all your travel companions waved you off, hollering I miss you already and don’t get lost as the two of you drove off into the red desert, even further from civilisation. You'd all been joined at the hip for over a week now, the idea of going it alone terrified you - until you remembered that all you needed was sitting right beside you.

Ready to show you what real adventure meant.

And boy, was it an adventure, weaving through saltbushes and spotting kangaroos from the passenger seat.

“Reckon you could fight one?” You’d ask Daniel, curious to know where the boundaries of his confidence lie, “Easy.” And part of you believed him – he could do it all, fearless as he drove up and over salt plains, making you squeal as the van hopped up a 90 degree cliff, all you could see was the clear blue sky above.

“You trust me, yeah?” He asked, looking down at your hand white knuckling his thigh, long nails digging into his bare skin. I do, you whispered with conviction because you did. Wholeheartedly, but that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t in your throat the entire time, wheels screeching as the van bumped it’s way over the ledge, revving red dirt and creating a cloud of dust.

“We’re here,” Daniel cheekily announced as the dust settled and you were met with a picturesque view of the ocean – waves crashing into the cliff side, already lulling your racing heart. It was adrenaline, pure and simple. You were dazed and confused until you felt Daniel’s hand on yours, clasping your fingers with his and asking if you were okay.

You were more than okay.

“I am… that was exhilarating.”

You were wide-eyed, stunned at how beautiful it all was; how beautiful he was. You didn’t even think twice, frantically unbuckling your belt and launching yourself over the console into Daniel’s body. He could see in your eyes how charged up you were when he grasped your face in his hands, desperate to have you close after a couple of long hours of driving. You melted into his kiss until your knee accidentally nudged the gear stick, lurching the van forward.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Daniel gasped, a loud laugh following closely behind as you held onto him for dear life. Whoops, he chuckled as he turned the van off and grabbed a handful of the flannel material hanging loosely over your shoulders, matching his. In one smooth motion, he was dragging you over the gear stick again; carefully this time and making sure you were settled in his lap before he captured your lips in a strong kiss, continuing what you started.

“What a view.”

Daniel’s compliments always made you blush, still to this day but back then they washed over you like a wave of reassurance, that he felt the same way – desperately in love. Almost. They were never obnoxious or over the top, just small little words of affirmation sealed with a kiss to some inch of your skin, noses brushing from the nearness. And now every time you felt the tip of his nose tracing down your neck, breath hot on your skin, you remember that day. Like it was yesterday. The way his hands pushed up your shirt, fingertips searing across your hips and holding you up so you could really feel him.

“Thought about this all week,” He whispered as your hand made quick work of his jeans, shimming him out of the thick denim and the boxers hugging his delicious hips. Me too, you barely hummed as you arched your back and tried to rid yourself of your own shorts, accidentally pushing back on the horn and making the two of you erupt in laughter.

Daniel wrapped one arm around your waist and leaned to look under his seat, roughly pulling a lever that sent him backwards and you forward over his shoulder, a quiet squeak slipping from your lips. He could do it all and looked even sexier doing it.

“That’s better, ey?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear as he leaned back in his seat and slid his warm hands under your shirt, squeezing your sides so that you knew he had you. Always.

“Much,” You simply sighed as your fingers danced down his own buttoned up flannel shirt. One by one, each button revealed more and more of his strong chest, mouth agape at the sight of the man you were falling for, head over heels. He did the same to yours, pushing the soft material from your shoulders and reaching behind your back, unclasping the latch on your cotton bra, the feeling of his fingertips sliding it from your warm skin sending chills down your spine.

“You look good like this.”

That was the first time he muttered those words to you but now it was something he told you every single day. They were the first words he would whisper in your ear in the morning as the dawning sun-rays stretched across your rosy cheeks and they were sometimes the last words he’d groan into your neck as he came undone above you, shortly before you fell asleep wrapped up in his arms. “You look so good.”

“Show me,” You whispered against his parted lips, “Show me how good I look.” It was a simple request, one you hoped to god he would fulfil. It was your first time having sex in the driver’s seat of a car, but not your last as it happened. Daniel was nimble, able to shimmy himself into the perfect position, teasing you with his slick tip, glazed with the promise of you wrapped around him. It turned out that he loved taking you like this; in a van, in his HiLux, on the back of a motorbike but especially in his Porsche. Seats back, windows steamy.

You were two pieces of a puzzle, cut from the same cloth and it made you emotional thinking back to the early days. The way his cologne mixed with your perfume was like an amalgamation of pure love, the scent to this day making your heart flutter. And it always transported you back to that day in the van, so many years ago now. The taste of his tongue colliding with yours as he swallowed you whispered moans, hyper aware of how pin-drop quiet your surroundings were. There was nothing but ocean and desolate land each way – solus.

“No ones here, darlin’ – we can be as loud as we want,” Daniel reassured you, circling you back and forth on his cock, filling you to the absolute limit as you held onto the steering wheel behind you, needing to grip something as he set your body alight.

“Don’t think I can be quiet when you touch me like that.”

A moan slipped from your lips as Daniel licked the pads of his fingers and found your clit. Visions of that day come swirling back every time you touched yourself, conjuring a memory of him pushing you to the edge to help you along on those lonely nights without him. The angle, the intensity, the intention to get you off as quickly as humanely possible, knowing round two would be taking place in the back of the van shortly after – desperation spurred you on.

The darkness in his eyes as he watched you squirm, rutting on his dick without a single care in the world but to make yourself feel good. That vision of you above him inspired his own high to build, the knotting in his stomach undeniable as you lurched forward and licked the soft skin below his ear, curls damp from sweat, skin salty and freckled from your day spent under the sun. It was unforgiving, the way your orgasm began to crescendo, riding it out slow.

Wanting this moment to last. Etched in your memory forever.

“I’m coming, Dan.”

You didn’t really need to say it because he knew. He knew from the way you gripped the roof of the car and controlled the way his hips moved with yours, holding your ground and keeping that toe curling pace he’d been teasing you with. He also knew from the violent blush creeping up your bare chest and the way your eyebrows stitched together in concentration. Identical to his, mouth left agape and in complete awe of how fucking unreal it all felt. Heavenly.

“I’m coming too, baby. Fuck, right there...” Daniel’s breath was jagged, curls unkempt from your fingertips doing their worst. Tangled and dark, a mess pressed between your foreheads as you leaned down and kissed him through your high, aching to have him close as you came undone, hips rolling and squeezing everything you had to give and taking back just as much. He always had a lotta love to give.

“I love you.” You whimpered in the afterglow. And it was the first time you’d ever said that to someone like him, someone you genuinely loved with your entire heart. Someone who, without a second thought, said it back; I love you more.

There were a lot of firsts on that trip to Coral Bay, ones that you cherished until this very day, standing in the spot where it all happened. 10 years of memories all rolled into a camper van and a couple of swags. Reams of sheets messy from reliving it all, indulging like you did as young twenty-something’s, now with real life responsibilities and on the precipice of your whole life changing.

“I can’t wait to bring her here.”

Daniel swept your hair behind your ear as you cuddled into his side, the same sound of the waves lapping against the cliff below like they did back then, lulling you into serenity again. He smiled and cradled your cheek with one hand, and your growing belly with the other. Enamoured beyond comprehension, speechless by how strongly he felt and content with where his future was headed. With you and the family you were starting together.

“I know she’s going to love it. Just like her mum.”

But for now, you could be those kids again. Dumb and falling in love. Sharing kisses under the starry night sky, holding each other close, reliving the good times and most importantly, saying yes to life.

Just like you did back where it all began.

a//n – it's danny ric week so it felt fitting to release this on the eve of the ausgp. thank you to mar and the anon who requested the prompts used in this fic. love ya's x masterlist | askbox

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo one shot #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #dr3 #f1 writing

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

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you know you never stood a chance - chapter five

you know you never stood a chance series

five: steal from yourselves

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

qz!Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Joel fight while taking Ellie to Lincoln.

Warnings: dub-con due to power imbalance, free use, sex as payment, vaginal sex, oral sex (m&f receiving), cum play, Joel is mean/bad with feelings, this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, degradation, canon-typical violence and danger, mention of Tess, description of injury

also on ao3

He’s worse than a field of landmines.

You never know where you stand with him. One moment, he’s eating you out on the floor of a convenience store, his jacket under your hips to keep away the broken glass.

The next, he’s bitching about your eternal uselessness.

You get it. Sort of. The only purpose you ever served him was a set of warm, wet holes. Never mind the fact that he used to fuss over you. So now, out here, what good are you?

It’s that kind of thinking that makes you keep your mouth shut when you twist your ankle.

He’s there in a heartbeat when you fall, pulling you back up with one arm. You brush the leaves off your clothes and mumble your thanks.

“Dunno how you made it this long,” he grumbles. It’s a harken back to when you were sat at his kitchen table, broken wrist cradled in his gentle hands. It’s sickening, actually, to hear the venom in his voice this time around.

So you press on, ignoring the way your body is screaming in protest. Alarms blare, but you ignore them, keeping pace with Joel so he can’t find another thing to hate you for.

But Joel is Joel, and so when you stop for the night, he spies the swelling.

“Stubborn brat,” he says. “Coulda said something.”

“Oh yeah? What good would that have done?”

“How am I supposed to take care of ya if you don’t tell me when you’re hurt?”

You don’t look at him. You know it won’t last. He’s angrier more than he’s not these days, at least with you.

“What if we had to run? What if I counted on you to do something, and you got us all killed?”

Yep, there it is. You pull yourself up, sneering at him when your ankle protests. “I’ll save you the fucking trouble.” You grab your bag, and even though you know it’s stupid, you walk away.

You don’t make it far. The swelling has made it so much harder to walk, so you get around the curve of the street, about five houses down from the one Joel cleared, and slump on the porch. It has solid half walls, thankfully, so you’re concealed, and you don’t hear any noise or see any lights inside.

“That was fuckin’ rude,” Ellie says.

Joel’s head snaps to her from where he was still watching the road, the inky darkness of the moonless night having swallowed you up.

“Shut up,” he grunts.

“You’re just gonna let her go off and get fungified?”

“Ain’t my business what she does.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of fucked up.” But she settles down in her sleeping bag, too tired from the long trek to keep arguing.

You had just gotten home from work, still in your regular clothes, when Joel and Tess burst in. He was angry; she was loud.

They’d been bickering about some kind of pills, some kind of trade. You didn’t pay attention; they’d been very clear it was none of your business. Instead, you made a second cup of coffee with extra milk for Tess.

They were still arguing when you went to your room and shut the door. Your hands couldn't seem to unbutton your shirt, fumbling with each, until you gave up after the third and flopped on the bed. Fuck it. You were tired. And as much as you liked Tess, you were pretty sure this meant you weren’t getting fucked, and you felt a little petulant about it.

The door slammed. Your bedroom door flew open moments later. There was something in his eyes that scared you just a little bit. It also made you wet, so there was that.

“Why’re you still dressed?” he asked, already moving to rectify the situation.

“Dunno, didn’t seem like you were in a rush,” you said.

He had you peeled out of your shirt and pants and laid out flat on the bed in record time. He loomed over you, one hand grasping at your waist and the other wrapping around your neck as he bent to capture a nipple between his teeth.

You took a deep, shaking breath, a little dizzy from the barrage of sensations. He bit and licked your breasts, your neck, your chin. You moaned and squirmed under him until he squeezed your throat a little tighter, nipping at your ear.

He pulled away abruptly. “Need your mouth,” he said, tugging at you with the hand on your throat.

You scrambled up onto all fours and held your mouth wide while he stroked his cock a few times in front of your face. When his hand was out of the way, you replaced it with your lips, wasting no time in burying him deep in your throat.

You gagged, but held on, gut telling you he’d be more appreciative of your enthusiasm than anything else that day. You choked yourself on him, tears streaming down your face, but you were right. He rewarded you with a gentle hand cradling your head.

“Fuck, that’s it, good girl. Look at you, takin’ my whole cock.”

You moaned around him, warmth from his praise seeping down your limbs. It made it easier, somehow, for the head of his cock to batter your throat. He fucked up into you, grunting while you struggled to keep breathing.

When he pulled out, he didn’t bother to give you orders. He just shoved you back on the bed and parted your legs with his thighs. Grinning, he rubbed the head over your clit to watch the way you writhed for him.

“You want it, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you groaned, trying to spread your legs wider, be more accommodating. “Please, Joel.” You looked up at him with tears weighing down your lashes, lips turned in a pout.

He was too impatient to string you along, so he just smirked and pushed into your waiting cunt. You cried out from the stretch. Sometimes, it still burned and stung, like the first time, when he didn’t work you open first. Not that you could have waited that night..

There was something in the air you couldn’t quite identify. He fucked you open with vigor, but he was quieter than usual. He mumbled the occasional “good girl” when your moans betrayed a little pain, and his thrusts were smoother, deeper, like he was trying to hide something in your body for no one else to find.

He’d kill them if they tried.

He took you apart over and over, his thumb on your clit demanding your obedience. You gave him everything you had to give, sobbing when it became too much. He kissed the tears from your face.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, though it was not as cruel as he usually got. It was almost tender. He made up for it by returning a hand to your throat to coax another orgasm from your wrung-out body, biting at your breasts until you clamped down on him. He pulled out and covered your tits in his thick, milky cum.

He stayed over you, caging you in with his body. You were exhausted, eyes fluttering shut as you gasped for air. He took two fingers and smeared the cum all over your breasts, tweaking your nipples with slick-coated pads. When he was satisfied with his artwork, he stuck the fingers in your mouth.

You cleaned them off, humming softly at the buzz between your ears. He got up and tucked his cock away, looking down at you.

You forced your eyes open to see him. His forehead was creased, and his lips tugged down at the corners.

“Leave that there,” he said when he finally looked away, leaving the room without another word.

You lay panting on your bed, shivering a little as the cum dries on your breasts. He always cleaned you up after. Always.

You dozed off a little, startling awake when he entered a while later. You weren't sure how long it had been, but the sun had almost set. In the orange glow across your bedspread, he dumped an armful of… well, something. You couldn’t quite tell.

“Put these in your bag,” he said, rifling around in your closet and tossing the backpack at you. Clothes followed it, one of his long-sleeve shirts and a pair of sweats that unfolded in the air, smacking you in the face.

Your brain hadn’t caught up with him, still in the pleasant hallows of your dream, but your body knew what to do. When all else failed, it obeyed Joel Miller. You were dressed and standing before you were fully acclimated.

“Why?” you finally said, shoving handfuls of what turns out to be protein bars and batteries, bandages and clothing, and a flashlight into your backpack.

“Ya can’t stay here anymore,” he said, and you froze, a wounded sound slipping out.

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean when I’m gone.”

“Lead with that, asshole,” you grumbled. “But wait, then what—”

“You’re gonna have to come with me,” he said. He handed you a rolled-up sleeping bag, which you attached to the bottom of your backpack with the never-before-used straps.

“But why?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.” He didn’t want to tell you what one of Robert’s men had said, how he had known that you were naive and alone in Joel’s apartment twice a month.

The man was dead, but if he knew, then you probably weren’t safe there anymore.

“How am I going to be safer out there? That’s where you go, right, outside the walls?” You’d never asked before. Better not to know.

He grunted, which, based on the tone and volume, was Joel for “yes.”

“I haven’t been outside in fifteen years.” You didn’t need to tell him how little you knew, even then.

“You’ll be safer because you’ll be with me.”

You were scared. You couldn’t hide it; you knew he could see it carved into your face. It didn’t make sense; he wasn't some superhuman; he was not repellant to Infected or the horrors beyond. But you were soothed by the thought nonetheless.

You had the bag slung over your shoulder and were toeing on your boots when he stopped filling his bag from the kitchen and came back out to look at you.

“Look,” he sighed and shook his head. “You don’t have to. I won’t drag ya by your hair or anything. I just can’t protect you if you stay.”

“I’ll go wherever you tell me, Joel.” You didn’t mean to say it; your stupid, anxious mouth ran twice as fast as your idiot brain. But you found that you meant it.

“Don’t come cryin’ to me if you regret that.”

Well, you regret it now, but you’d die before crying to him about it, you think. You’re still buried in your sleeping bag on the porch, sun just barely cresting the horizon. You’re slumped down, saved from the damp, plastic carpet by the mostly intact cocoon. The porch is uneven, tilting to the right with decades of shifting foundation coming to haunt its shoddy construction.

It’s quiet. Birds chirp from somewhere as the dim light filters between the dilapidated carbon copy houses. You haven’t slept at all—too afraid.

A voice rumbles in the distance. Undeniably human, possibly male. For one second, your heart jumps, thinking maybe it’s Joel, and you won’t have to try to drag your ass back to him and grovel or find your way home.

And then you remember the reality of the situation. Chances are good that they moved on, and chances are even stronger that you’re not alone in this little subdivision. You don’t have time to wait and see what direction they’re coming from, let alone what they look like. You scuttle to the other side of the porch and jump from the top of the rail over the chainlink fence. You land hard on your side, trying to avoid actually breaking your ankle. It knocks the wind out of you, and there’s sure to be a bruise tomorrow, but you’re able to stand up and creep around into the yard.

There’s a back porch, raised high, with broken trellises along the bottom. At the far end is a garage, the sliding door hanging at an angle, and the regular door missing. Around the corner is an overgrown, dead garden, a doghouse, and the rusty frame of a trampoline.

They’re all shit options for shelter. But you’re not sure you could clear the fence from the ground without rattling it. You can hear boots scraping on the road, low murmurs spilling in their wake. Whoever it is clearly doesn’t want to attract clickers, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t looking for trouble.

You don’t have time to clear any of the hiding places. The garage and the porch are the highest risk for lurking Infected, but you don’t think you can fit quickly into the doghouse. You hear the sound of feet on the creaky front porch and dive for the garage, tucking yourself in around the corner from the regular door.

There are no Infected. There is a corpse, but it’s long gone to rot, skeletal and sickening, in a beach chair in the corner. The skull is shattered and jagged, and a revolver is on the ground. You sneak over and grab it. There are two bullets loaded and no more in sight. Hands wrapped around the grip, you press yourself back against the wall where you shouldn’t be able to be spotted from the house.

And you wait.

next chapter

*title from "Jars" by Chevelle

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller smut #you know you never stood a chance series

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 2 months

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can we talk about how the one time in the Third film the brothers showed even a bit of remorse was when Branch had walked off meaning he never actually witnessed it so he decided to give them another chance despite the fact the last interaction he had with them was JD and Bruce mocking him for thinking they'd stay in his life this time 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

I swear this movie had way too much in it that pretty much what was meant to be the heart of the film got neglected Branch deciding to give them yet another chance when his last interaction with his brothers was them at their very worst is just nonsensical.

and no what he overheard Poppy say to Viva doesn't explain it since their situations are too different Poppy nor Viva were to blame for their separation either times.

Bro zone were to blame both times and were cruel and petty about it so what she said doesn't apply to Branch's situation especially not when his bros had shown no posotive signs of change.

despite them already being given a second chance but they Blew it the film encouraging him to forgive them yet again is just irresponsible of the film tbh.

its targeted towards young children some of whom may be in toxic abusive family environments and what this film does is encourage them to stay to never try and get away from their family.

to keep on giving them chance after chance no matter how many times they let you down and hurt you and to never try and find anyone better who actually treats you right and is consistent in your life.

I'm sorry but why do people like the message of this film again? 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞

in the modern day people want to tell family stories that feel more real by exposing how family isn't always perfect but this is going too far Bro zone weren't just not perfect they were Toxic and they didn't Redeem themselves at all imo.

not to mention they were only family in the loosest old fashioned sense in that they were blood related Branch was literally a baby when they left he had more of a relationship with Creek throughout his life than he did any of his Bros.

Honestly Trolls as a franchise has a Habit of ditching characters after their appearances in one film such as the characters in World Tour.

so on the off chance that also happens with Bro zone maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to just act like they never existed and write them off as none cannon.

either that or just have the message of the next film be something more posotive that fixes this like him learning that they are still unreliable people who he Barely knows so he cuts them off.

or have Bro zone actually do some stuff to redeem themselves somewhat and act in a better way overall.

either way the Third film's story messed up badly in my opinion and this needs to be fixed in the future.

#trolls branch #trolls #trolls brozone #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #branch trolls #branch #brozone #trolls 3 #Trolls #Trolls Branch #Trolls Bro zone #trolls bro zone angst #trolls branch angst #trolls 4 #Trolls Band Together

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 11 months

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The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Azul Ashengrotto

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Azul Ashengrotto

Supporting Roles: Mama Ashengrotto, Jade Leech & Floyd Leech

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort but comfort is only at the end, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, wet cat Azul, 99% genuine fic 1% crack (actual math said 0.002%)

Content Warning: mentions of injury, brief mention of divorce (Mama Ashengrotto), self-doubt/self-loathing on Azul's part, mention of an age gap but there isn't one

Word Count: 5.5 K

Author's Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I may or may not write parts for other characters; if you want to be tagged for those please let me know. I am not sorry for the ending. I switch between third and second-person point of view, if that bothers you, sorry. Spell check done by Grammarly. I wrote this in like one or two days, help.

Jade's Story | Floyd's Story

Once a year, during the week of the largest full moon, merfolk are forced out of the ocean at night, their aquatic halves melting into legs. The process itself was not a pleasant one, often described as stepping on broken glass for the entire duration. This annual week-long nightly excursion typically starts the year in which the merperson turns sixteen, corresponding with the age at which the mermaid made a deal with the Sea Witch to go on land and try to be with her soul match.

Some considered it as a blessing, as a chance to find their soul match beyond the waters they knew, to find the singer of the silent song that rested in their hearts. To find the person that they felt magnetically drawn towards, no matter the distance that separated them, like that of the moon and the tides.

Others, however, viewed it as a curse, as there was a catch alongside the pain of walking. If their soul match happens to not be a merperson, one of the parties would have to leave their old life behind in order to be with the other. The surface dweller would have to trade their legs for fins, or the mer would have to trade their aquatic half for legs. Permanently. Such a steep price had some mers taking drastic measures to avoid that fate, not wanting to be forced to leave the life they knew behind or wanting their soul match to leave theirs, even if it meant they would both live their happiest years together. In the search for answers, some were able to concoct an elixir that would stop the transformation for that year. Unfortunately, there was also a drawback to it as well. If a mer were to take it for three years in a row, they would no longer be able to go on land, even with the aid of potions. They would be bound to the sea for their life. It is easy enough to avoid, but it was still tiresome.

But what of mers already living on land? What happens to them during this week?

For those mers who call the land their home, they revert back to their merform during sunlight hours, regardless of how many potions or spells they may try. They only get their legs back when the sun sets and the moon rises. It is more of an inconvenience than anything else.

And this cycle of returning to land would continue until they found their soul match, forged a bond with another, their match forged a bond with another or their match died. But they would feel when their match died the instant it happened, as the pull would stop and their inner song faded into silence. And for those who had lost their match, they were never the same again. It was considered as one of the most painful experiences a mer could live through.

Mers would be able to feel their soul match and hear their song by their sixth birthday. If they did not, it was often seen as a bad omen, as it was an extremely rare occurrence. And looks of pity and sadness were given when the child disclosed this information, but no one outside of their family would answer their questions.

… ... ...

Azul could not fall asleep, no matter how many songs his mother sang, or how many stories she told him. The little cecaelia stayed awake, his tentacles subconsciously mussing with blankets.

“Mama, what did it feel like for you?” He murmured, trying and failing to suppress a yawn, eyelids drooping. “Did it feel like the mermaid’s from the story? Can you tell me it?”

Miss Ashengrotto held onto her son’s little hand, rubbing her thumb gently across his palm. “Hm, well it felt like there was a rope tying me to someone. I couldn’t see or touch them, but I knew they were out there somewhere.” She hummed, placing a kiss on Azul’s forehead. “But it was the song,” she placed a hand on top of her heart and then placed one of her tentacles on Azul’s chest. “It sings from here, and in theirs is where the harmony is complete. It felt like…” A wistful sigh left her lips, “It felt like home. Not quite like the mermaid’s, but similar in a sense.” A soft smile graced her lips as she looked tenderly at her son. “And I met him six years ago. I met you, my little cuttlefish.”

Azul giggled at the nickname. “What about dad? I thought he was your soul match?”

“He’s not,” she frowned slightly, knowing that she would have to tell him eventually about the divorce, but not wanting him to go through what many children of divorce had to. Especially not now. “But that’s okay. We can love people who aren’t our soul matches. Plus soul matches can come in very many ways. They can be romantic, like the mermaid’s, friendships, or familial, like you and me. Some people even have more than one. For every person, there is a different kind of soul match, no two are the same.”

Azul leaned into his mother’s touch, and clung onto her side, “I love you, mama.”

“I love you most,” and she attacked his face with kisses and raspberries, making him squeal with laughter. “Now, you should really try and get some sleep, love. Tomorrow is your birthday after all!”

Azul wrapped himself into a blanket cocoon, “Okay, mama. Night night.”

Ms. Ashengrotto gave one final kiss to his forehead and turned off the light. “Sweet dreams, Azul.”

He looked towards the skylight, seeing the gentle light softly radiating from the full moon above. He wondered if they saw it too if his soul match was seeing the same beautiful moon that he was seeing now. He wondered if they felt like the warm gentle kisses of the sun's rays on skin, or perhaps the cool embrace of the moon’s light. Maybe they felt like something completely different. Azul let out a happy but nervous giggle and waved goodnight to the moon before falling into the land of dreams.

…

Azul woke up the next day, but his excitement morphed into worry and then panic. He didn’t feel the pull. He didn’t hear the song. He was supposed to wake up on his sixth birthday and feel the pull and hear his soul match’s song, but there was nothing. Nothing but silence and his own thoughts and racing heart. He buried himself back into his cocoon, tears starting to threaten to fall.

“Azul, honey?” His mother poked her head into his room and saw that he was still in his bed. “Come on, love, time to get up. I made your favourite breakfast! Azul?” Her chipper tone toned down as she heard the small sniffles, and instantly was at her son’s side, holding out her hand if he wanted to hold on to it. “I’m here if you want to talk, baby.”

Azul slowly pulled the blankets down, eyes bloodshot from crying, and a bit of ink leaking out. “It didn’t happen, mama,” his voice cracked, and he let out a little cough. “Why didn’t it happen?”

Ms. Ashengrotto wiped away some of the stray tears and gently held his face. “That…” she paused, trying to come up with something that would help him but also be true. “That happens sometimes, love. It doesn’t always happen exactly on everyone’s sixth birthday. It might mean that they aren’t here yet.”

Azul rubbed at his nose, “But Rielle said-”

“Tch, tch. Last time I checked Rielle is Rielle, and you are Azul, my sweet, smart, and charming Azul.” She placed a kiss on each cheek, earning a small giggle in return. “So ignore Rielle. It will happen eventually Azul. Besides, you’ll always have me. Now, would you like some breakfast as we wait?”

Azul grabbed onto his mother’s hand, “Maybe just a little…”

And they swam hand in hand towards the kitchen, but both of their minds and hearts weighed heavy at what this could possibly mean.

… ... ...

Azul sat at his desk in the Mostro Lounge VIP room, going over some contracts even though the new school year hadn’t even started yet. Normally, he would be more smug about the whole ordeal, but his mind was elsewhere, wandering. No matter what contract he tried to make to find his soul match, it would always lead to nothing, nothing but a bitter feeling and a restless night of sleep. Ever since he turned six all those years ago, he still hasn’t felt the magnetic pull or heard the song play in his heart that he overheard others talk excitedly about. Perhaps it was a lost cause… Perhaps he was meant to spend this lifetime alone… Perhaps he wasn’t good enough for someone despite all he has accomplished…

A familiar rapping at the door caught his attention. Pulling himself out of his rapidly tunnel-visioning thoughts, Azul dusted himself off and straightened up his appearance. There’s no use in dwelling in the past and on what-ifs, there are more important dealings at hand. “Come in.”

“Azul, the carriages have started arriving,” Jade spoke, opening the door.

Azul adjusted the hood on his robe and joined Jade in walking towards the mirror chamber in silence. Floyd was probably off somewhere looking for a source of amusement while the house wardens and vice wardens saw that their new underclassmen got situated. As long as he didn’t have to repay for damages he didn’t mind what shenanigans the other Leech twin got into since it could always be smoothed over at a later date.

As he was walking down the stairs though, he nearly fell, pausing dead in his tracks and clutching onto the bannister. Something was pulling at him so strongly that he nearly toppled over. And he could hear singing so loud that he could almost hear nothing else save for his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. His soul match. He wasn’t alone. Everything else seemed to disappear, nothing else mattered. But the moment of shock, awe, and soul-shattering happiness of finally knowing that there was finally someone out there, broke. Shattered into a thousand pieces. If it was happening now that would mean… it would mean that his soul match just entered into the world. That happiness morphed into bitterness. He would be at least seventeen years their senior, and he instantly felt ill.

Jade had noticed the odd behaviour and stood there waiting and watching. Seeing the different emotions flash across Azul’s eyes. “Hmm? Something the matter?” A coy smile slowly made its way onto his face, amused at whatever had caused the brief moment of clumsiness.

Azul’s face flushed blue, but he cleared his throat and continued on, ignoring the stare that was practically searing a hole at the back of his head. “Nothing for you to be concerned with,” he stated cooly. He was anything but cool though, quite the opposite really. He wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his office, even considering hiding away in his octopot after all of these years. Jade, however, did not need to be privy to any of this, lest Azul wanted to be teased for admitting to such a thing. “Now, let’s move along. We shouldn’t be late.”

The magnetic pull and song did not stop, if anything it kept on growing stronger. Azul had to grit his teeth to avoid his carefully crafted mask from falling. But there was a small part of him that wanted nothing more than to follow the pull, to find them. A part of him reasoned that soul matches were not always one type of relationship, some are purely platonic whereas others took on a more familial role, like what his mother told him many years ago. But no one was the wiser of his thoughts as he entered the mirror chamber, people more focused on first-day nerves and sorting out their new charges.

“New students,” he started, putting on a welcoming yet calculating smile. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honoured to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.” He looked around the new sea of faces that would call Octavinelle home. That’s odd though, the headmage seems to not be here.

Other dorm heads started muttering about the headmage’s absence, but soon enough he appeared, dragging along some grey creature and a new student in their robes. Azul winced, the song was deafening and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus on what was being said.

But upon hearing, “I sense no magical powers from this one. Soundless. Colourless,” that piqued his interest and the song faltered slightly. “Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.”

But the moment of silence was ruined, trying into chaos, since the grey creature decided to get loose and spew blue fire everywhere.

“Everyone,” Riddle shouted, “get down!”

The others were not much help, taking to bickering amongst themselves or trying (and failing in some cases) to not get licked by the flames.

Azul cleared his throat, “Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are up to the task of catching a small animal, I will accept the responsibility.” He would recount to others that he remembered the proceedings of that day, but he would be lying, as he could only recount the pull and the song that made it hard to hear or focus on anything else. Even the snarky banter with Riddle was forgotten. It was only the song that occupied his thoughts.

… ...

The song had quietened since it first showed up, now just a constant humming in his head. The pull though would vary in strength, meaning that his soul match was closer to him. He wanted nothing more than to run to them, but he knew better than to go into this blindly. He told himself that he would wait for six years, and talk to their guardian about him being in their life as a familial bond. The only inkling that Azul was thinking all of this was the occasional far-off look in his eyes, or singing the same song under his breath.

“That’s new,” Jade hummed.

Azul faltered, realizing that he had been singing his soul match’s song unknowingly. “I suppose it is,” he said, measuring his actions carefully. He knew that Jade would see through any lies he attempted, so he knew that telling the truth was a far better option. It would just have to be handpicked truths though, as to make sure not to lay everything bare, as he wasn’t ready for that yet. “I heard it recently and haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

Jade placed a cup of tea on the desk, careful to avoid any papers that were strewn about. “That so? I don’t recognize it.” His smile turned sharp, calculating, but he tampered it down to something more cold and polite. “Perhaps we can find the person who made this song?”

Azul stopped what he was doing, and looked at Jade with a raised brow. “There is no need for such… drastic measures,” he said, wanting nothing more than to hide away. Of course that damned eel would notice his off behaviour and put two and two together. “Besides,” he brushed himself off, “it would be foolish.”

“It would be foolish not to,” Jade replied. Soon the sharp smile returned, “Speaking of fools, there has been talk of the new Prefect of Ramshackle. Apparently, they have… won over Riddle and Leona. And they seem to keep rather interesting company as well. They seem intriguing.”

Azul pushed up his glasses and faintly recalled the face of the Ramshackle Prefect from the mirror chamber. “The magicless Prefect? And by company you mean those two first-years in Heartslabyul and that cat creature? Hmm, they did just sign these the other day.” He pulls out the three contracts, looking up at his friend(?), fellow business associate(?). “And that dorm, as… rustic as it is would work wonderfully for our latest business venture.” A small smug smile starts to bloom. “Let’s see how foolish they can be.”

… ... ...

When Azul overblotted, the song returned, practically screaming in his head, and the pull felt like he was next to a black hole. That’s all he really remembers from the incident, the rest of it being filled in by the others. But why was the song so loud? How was the pull so strong? He groaned, dragging his hands across his face. “Why is this happening,” he breathed out, staring up at the ceiling of his room. “Why now?”

And on top of all of this, the largest full moon of the year is happening next week, just his luck. At least the professors were understanding and gave the merfolk the week off of studies, and even if they could attend classes, everyone would have been too distracted to focus on the subject material. Perhaps he could take this week and work on revising the Lounge’s menu.

He sighed, it was no use trying to get any sleep at this rate. “Sea Witch,” he huffed, “why did you spin me this fate?” No one answered, just the calm light of the moon falling down from above, painting everything in cool silvers and blues. Perhaps a walk around campus would help clear his swimming thoughts and allow him to at least get a few hours of decent sleep before his first class of the day.

As he walked through the empty halls, Azul hummed the song that never ceased in his mind. He let the gentle pull of his soul match guide him. He knew it would lead somewhere, and he would stop himself from going any further if he felt it get too strong. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear someone else humming the exact tune, the same lyrics, harmonizing perfectly with his, echoing off of the corridors from out of site.

Both parties stopped. The gentle tugging now felt like a gravitational pull. And Azul was conflicted; should he continue ahead or turn back? His soul match had just happened this year, if they had indeed just entered into this world they shouldn’t be here, at the college, let alone at this hour. And by the tone of their humming, he would guess that they were around his age, not an infant as he first thought. Then why did it take so long for the song and pull to happen? What did that mean?

But the hurried footsteps which fled in the opposite direction of him were an indicator enough; they weren’t ready. They didn't want to meet him.

A lump formed in his throat. His soul match was here? For all this time? At the school? A slight panic arose. Did they know? Were they able to tell who he was based on the faint humming? Is that why they ran away? Because they knew and wanted nothing to do with him? After all this time why should he think any differently? Of course, his soul match would choose to run away from him. Why wouldn’t they? After his overblot, he wouldn’t expect them to stay. If he were them, he would have run away as well, far far away. He couldn’t blame them. He would have run away from himself too.

… ... ...

The week of the full moon came far sooner than Azul would have wanted. Instead of going home as many of the others did, he stayed, holing himself up in one of the private pools in the Octavinelle dorm during the day or his office when nighttime came around. Of course, he wasn’t so lucky to be the only one who stayed. Jade and Floyd had stayed to ‘keep him company’, but he knew that they only stayed to tease him even though they had their soul matches out there somewhere.

“Jade told me that you’ve been humming a little song,” speak of one the devils. Floyd poked his head into the crevice that Azul had crammed himself into at the deep end of the pool. “So you’ve been hiding the little siren song from us, that’s not fairr!~ Come on, sing, Azul!”

Azul glared at the intruding twin, “It has nothing for you to be concerned with.” He tried to push Floyd out of his personal space, but he just took it as a challenge to try and shimmy his way in further. “I don’t meddle in your… affairs,” he hissed, finally having enough of the meddling eel-mer and punching him in the gut with a tentacle, shooting him out of the rocky cavern and his personal space. “Now leave me alone!”

“Eh? Tch, whatever, you’re no fun like this, moping about,” Floyd pouted. His eyes soon lit up though, and he turned to his brother who was lurking in the background. “We should grab Little Shrimpy tonight! I wonder how they would react if we pulled them in for a swim?~”

Jade chuckled, “Their reaction would be quite amusing I imagine.” He swam over to Azul’s hiding crevice, and shot him a look that he knew too well; he was planning something, something that was sure to give him a headache.

Floyd swam about excitedly, twisting and turning, turning up the sand at the bottom and clouding up the water. “Swimming with Shrimpyyyy,” he sang with glee. “Heh heh, wonder if Shrimpy has their own song?~ Eh, but humans only have the song if their match is a mer…”

Azul groaned, what with Floyd’s babbling and the song being stubbornly loud today, he could feel the beginnings of a migraine. Why couldn’t there be large enough pools in their bedrooms so he could avoid all of this? “Seven’s, put me out of my misery,” he grumbled to himself.

“Ah, Azul,” Jade tutted, “we can’t have that now. After all, your match is around here, somewhere.” That earned the eel a tentacle punch as well, much like his brother. “No need to be rude now. We’re just trying to help is all.” But that smug shit-eating grin of his said otherwise. “Floyd, let’s go, the sun is setting. We’ll retrieve the Prefect closer to dawn.”

And finally, Azul was left alone. But the brief moment of peace was broken, hissing in pain. The transformation was happening. Upon completion, he poked his head out, making sure that the coast was clear before making his way towards his office and bolting the door shut. “At last,” he sighed, sagging against one of the sofas. “Some peace and quiet.”

As he busied himself with revising contracts, the day’s earnings, and going over notes on what subject matter to study for an upcoming test. But he wasn’t all there. Despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the song, and the tugging was strongest during this week. But after that night, when he heard them run away, he didn’t know if he wanted to find them anymore. What if this… whatever it is that the Sea Witch gave him, wasn’t right? He could have been content eventually, content with knowing that he didn’t have a soul match out there. But this, knowing and having one but having heard them run away before he could properly meet them? That was almost worse. He would always know that they were out there, and they had run away before even really getting to know him. Could they have been happy? Could they have been a friend? Could they have been like family? Could they have been… in love?

Eventually, he had to return to the pool, as he didn’t want anyone seeing him crawl back in his mer-form. When he got back he noticed the twins were still gone, but they would be back eventually, so he took this time to properly stretch out. Yes, being in tight spaces gave him a sense of security, but it felt nice to stretch out his tentacles and relax without worrying about someone interrupting him or making a rude comment. It felt nice to take up space.

“Come on, Shrimpy!” Floyd’s yelling alerted him, and he quickly went down to his hiding crevice before he was spotted. “Let’s go for a swim!~”

The door to the pool room opened with a loud bang, Floyd carrying the Ramshackle Prefect over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Even from under the water, Azul could hear them shrieking in protest. “FLOYD! Put me down!”

He hid further in his hiding spot, not wanting them to see him like this. He also clutched his hands over his ears, the song only increasing more and more. And the tugging at his soul grew even stronger.

Jade was of no help, just watching the chaos ensue. You shot him a glare, but he just chuckled at the action.

“Eh? Okay then, Shrimpy, if you insist,” Floyd got that familiar glean in his eyes, the kind that meant no good.

“Floyd, do not throw me! Don’t you dare throw me,” but he had already made the decision for you, and you could do nothing to stop him. He threw you into the pool, following suit by splashing in after you, drenching Jade in the process who shot his twin the side eye. “Why?” You seethed.

Floyd swam up beside you, now in his mer-form. “Cuz it’s more fun like this,” he sang, poking your cheek with the tip of a claw. “Right, Jade?!”

Jade was now also in the pool and swimming towards you. “While I wouldn’t personally throw them in, it was quite amusing.”

“You two are awful,” you sighed, giving into your fate. Despite being just thrown in, the water was quite pleasant but you wouldn’t admit it, since they would tease you mercilessly. Jade chuckled, and Floyd gave you a large smile, but neither of them denied the statement.

You went and laid on your back, floating and staring at the ceiling. To others, it would look like you were relaxing, but you did this not to relax, but rather to stay afloat. As you felt like an anchor was trying to pull you into the dark depths of the pool. There was nothing pulling you down physically though, and other odd things have also happened since you showed up at Night Raven College. Yes, a world filled with magic, merfolk, fae, and beastmen was quite the shocker, but none of that explained why you felt like something was always pulling you towards something, and the same song kept on playing in your head. And now, alongside the pulling, it was the loudest it has ever been, even louder than during Azul’s overblot when it felt like it was rupturing your eardrums. But it was more pleasant this time, not painful.

You hummed, “Just curious, but does everyone hear… a song in their head on repeat all the time?”

Floyd stopped splashing about and was in your face in a millisecond. “SHRIMPYYY!!!” And he tackled you into a hug that would definitely be leaving some bruises later. You should have been used to this kind of behaviour, but you still winced with him nearly screaming in your ear and the pressure of his squeezing.

Jade had also swam into your personal bubble, eyes filled with curiosity. “Oh, that’s rather strange. Have you always heard this little song of your’s, Prefect?”

You wiggled out of Floyd’s grasp, sputtering out some wayward water that had managed to get into your mouth, leaving behind the taste of salt. “No,” you grimaced, spitting out some more water. “Which is why I’m asking.”

Azul peered up, this exchange catching his attention, but still kept himself hidden.

“It means you have a soul match!~” Floyd giggled.

You frowned, “A soul match? Never heard of that.”

“A soul match is something rather common here,” Jade said. “For humans, it is quite rare. It is far more common in beastmen, fae and merfolk. The fact that you have such a bond is…” he paused for a moment, “rather interesting.”

You heaved yourself out of the water, as you didn’t feel comfortable staying in the pool what with the pulling and the off chance that it did eventually pull you underwater never to surface again. “Cryptic as always, Jade,” you raise a brow at the eel-mer. “Just answer the question please.”

Jade put a hand over his heart, “Oh, how you wound me.” He saw you roll your eyes, and he decided to elaborate on your request. “Mers are gifted soul matches by the Sea Witch. A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.” He leaned in close, eyes flashing. “So, to answer your question, Prefect-”

“Shrimpy’s match is a mer!!!” Floyd interrupted with glee, throwing his arms out, splashing you in the process.

Jade sighed at his brother’s antics. “Which is what I was going to say before you interrupted me, but he is correct. You have a soul match with a mer.”

You blinked in confusion. You, with a merperson? “But why? How,” you questioned, looking at your reflection in the water. Why me?

“That, I believe, is for you to discover on your own,” Jade hummed. You shot him the side eye. “Oh, don’t give me such a look, Prefect, you know I can’t give away everything. Besides,” he peered down into the depths, “if you follow the tug, and sing the song, you will find them eventually.”

With that, Jade dove into the depths, calling Floyd to follow him. You were left alone at the edge of the pool, with nothing else to accompany you but your dripping clothes and racing thoughts. And of course, the song that played in your head.

… ...

Somehow that night, Jade and Floyd had managed to pry Azul away from his desk and paperwork.

“Leave me alone,” he protested, glaring at them. “Go look for your soul matches without me!”

Floyd flung his arm across Azul’s shoulder, effectively trapping him into joining along. “But Azulll, we should find them together!~” Why did he insist on being so? So?! So annoying?! “Plus, I wanna see the look on your face when you see them for the first time! Maybe you’ll turn blue, or even spew ink!~”

Why did he befriend these two again? “I will do no such thing!” His voice cracked, going up an octave and he felt his face flush. And Floyd wore an even larger grin, poking at his cheek.

“See! Already proving to be fun!” He ran ahead suddenly, leaving Azul alone with Jade.

Azul massaged his temple, trying to regain whatever composure he had left. Didn’t he just say they would be searching for their soul matches together? Why in the Sea Witch’s name did he just run off without them?

Jade walked behind him, making sure he couldn’t just return back to his office and hide for the night. “Floyd is just a bit excitable is all,” he answered Azul’s silent question. But he knew that the eel was plotting something.

The pulling was getting stronger, and the song blocked out everything else. Azul had to close his eyes and dig his nails into his hands. He was not running away. He wasn’t the same little octo-mer that hid away from the world.

Just as soon as he had left, Floyd was back, and he had a tag-along. “And Shrimpy is joining us in the hunt!~”

Without thinking, both Azul and you stepped forward, being drawn together by an invisible force. And suddenly everything was silent. Sing. Azul’s mouth opened and shut, but nothing came out. He didn’t have to start though, as you sang the first notes, and he joined in. The two of you stood there, humming your harmony. And all those thoughts that plagued his mind earlier vanished, knowing that you were the right one. That the Sea Witch knew that you were the only one for him.

…

Bonus!

Jade and Floyd looked at the two of you curiously, with Jade having to hold back Floyd from interrupting the tender moment.

“Wondering if Shrimpy will stay human or decide to turn into a mer,” Floyd whispered to Jade. “Would they be a shrimp or octo-mer, to match with Azul?”

Jade turned his attention away from the two soul matches, “That’s for them and Azul to decide, we shouldn’t meddle.”

Floyd shot him a pout, “But when you meddle it’s fine? How did you even know they were soul matches in the first place?”

“It wasn’t all that hard,” he quipped. “I heard the Prefect sing some of the lyrics under their breath, and I also heard Azul quietly singing them as well.”

“See, meddling.~” Floyd looked at his brother expectantly, “Well, what were they?”

Jade looked at you and Azul, still humming the song to each other, a soft smile coming to rest on his face. “I believe it was, ‘Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down.’ Quite sweet if you think about it.”

Floyd also smiled, looking at the two soul matches. “Heh, it suits them.~”

. . . . .

Fin!

Now I dare you to read this again, knowing full well what the song is, because I swear it will make you see it in a different light and have you cracking up in parts. Please don't kill me, love you!

Link to Masterlist

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x gn reader #azul x reader #azul x gn reader #twst x gn reader #jade leech #floyd leech #mama ashengrotto #sorry but not sorry for the ending #literally i had written a note to myself near the beginning 'should i be a little shit and make the song a fucking meme... mayhaps'#i was crying CRYING i tell you #octavinelle #i greatly enjoyed putting azul through it and i will do it again in time #and also i would literally kill and die for azul's mum #jade just spends the entirety of this trying to get these two dense idiots together and not murder someone #floyd is just there for the vibes and shrimpy #99% genuine fic 1% crack #technically it's 0.0017% crack #twst x gender neutral reader #twst hurt/comfort #tweels

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holdupjack · 8 months

Text

They’ll Be Much More Interested In My Wife

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Hollywood film stars hiding their love.

WARNING: SMUT 18+/MINORS DNI

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Los Angeles California, 1958

Hermione had moved to the States in 1955, a month after her 18th birthday, She had hugged her mother and father goodbye to pursue a career in the biggest film industry in the world.

She was destined to become a star.

Her soul yearned for it.

The young girl was cast fairly quickly due to her beauty and the seemingly natural talent she had for capturing her emotions onto film.

Hermione did many movies within the last few years, having to mask her accent for most due to the 'all-American girl fantasy' the whole word was stuck on.

Then again, she understood the charm.

She had reluctantly gone on dates with many male stars, all of them being less than fruitful as they talked on and on about their successful movies and Oscar wins.

On one of the days on the set of a 'romantic' war film, she was the lead. Y/n Y/l/n walked in dressed as a secretary, her character's 'roommate'. Whom she was supposed to fight with, in the next scene.

This movie had more secret gay underlining than straight movie buffs would ever realize.

She hoped the future generations would see it and appreciate the risks the writers took.

Y/n is a beautiful woman, always smiling as she read her lines, or laughing at something one of the stagehands said.

Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off her as they waited for everyone to be ready for shooting, their eyes met from time to time as Hermione sat in her chair with her legs crossed, her thumb holding her chin as she blocked her growing smile with her index finger.

This wasn't their first encounter, not even their second, and you could tell from the way they greeted and looked at one another.

It wasn't a surprise that in the time they lived in, openly dating someone of the same sex was a death sentence, with your career and literally.

They had first met a few months into Hermione's first year as an Actress, circling each other like predators.

It was a secret hostility they shared, since Y/n had a few years on her in acting, even though they were the same age, and considered Hermione a threat to her career when it came to the chances of getting leads in movies.

Y/n had been a child star, and Hermione even grew up watching her in the family-friendly movies she saw with her parents.

Hermione found her pretty then, and even more gorgeous now.

She had known of her feelings towards women for many years now, she honestly knew it was the whole reason she detested men.

Yet, she had to keep up the act. No journalist or paper could know how she felt, so if that meant unfulfilling dates and sex, so be it.

They only had a month left with each other until this movie wrapped up for editing, and the male lead, Joesph Cotten was hitting on them relentlessly.

(A/N: actual actor back then btw, but I know him best from Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte...also no idea if he was a lady's man, so consider this satire)

The girls just gave fake giggles and thanked him for his kind words before they were called onto the stage. They took their places and waited for the director to call the scene to action. Y/n sat at a desk while Hermione stood behind a door that led into the area.

"Action!"

Hermione walked into the room and shut the door behind her, Y/n didn't look up as she pretended to sign papers, she then glared at her.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered in her very convincing American accent as Y/n looked up and had a confused look on her face.

"Pardon me?"

"You told me that you were going to stay home today" Hermione states as she walks toward the desk and peeked past her and into the window that had her boss (Joseph) sitting inside talking to an associate.

"I'm a secretary for an important general of the U.S. Army, I can't call off because you told me to Lily" Y/n replied as she stood up and walked over to a filing cabinet, opening it to a slew of blank papers inside.

Hermione loomed next to her and stared at her face in a soft panic, the corner of their eyes saw the camera slowly make its way to capture their emotions.

"Please Mary, go home after lunch." Hermione whispers as she stands closer to capture Y/n's gaze.

This movie wasn't focused on expressions like the others they had been in, instead of close up of their faces to make a statement, it was told through body movement.

Yet, the gazes shared between them told another story, a relationship between a spy and her 'roommate'.

The whole plot was that Hermione's character, Lily Sullivan, is tasked by the United States military to coax a confession out of Scott Willis (Joseph Cotten) as an enemy of the country. When in reality, "Lily" was the one selling secrets to other countries, she was covering her tracks by killing Scott. The man that was hot on her trail.

Yet, she only says goodbye to one person before she goes on the run.

Mary, her 'roommate' for many years.

They end up leaving together.

The studio said it was a friendship built on lies but was still strong after everything. While Hermione and Y/n knew what it really was.

The girls have on-screen chemistry better than most male and female actors, the papers had said it paid off that they were such good friends off-screen.

"If it bothers you that much Lily, I'll go home after lunch. May I ask why with the urgency?" Y/n asks as she shuts the filing cabinet and Hermione freezes as she pretends to think of a reason.

"I'll explain everything to you later, alright?" She replies and Y/n nods with a bit of hesitation, before ultimately verbally agreeing.

"Okay, Lily."

Y/n then walks out of frame, leaving Hermione to act as if she was thinking deeply for a few moments as the camera zooms in closer.

Her eyes just flickered up and down Y/n's body as she stood a few feet away, it took everything in Hermione to not smile and ruin this take.

Y/n didn't smile, but the glint in her eye showed her that she was enjoying their little staring contest.

"Cut! Great job everyone let's take five and do the next scene with Y/n and Joseph, then will do another take of this after!" the director yells as a bell rings for their dismissal.

A few assistants crowded around the girls as they were pulled towards their chairs for any hair or makeup fixes.

It was late into the night, and they were behind schedule due to a broken camera last week. So today everyone was forced to pull an all-nighter and come back the day after next.

Hermione loved an all-night shooting, it happened once in a blue moon, but when it did?

Y/n came home with her.

No paparazzi would be staying out late to catch them holding hands inside her car, where they could hear the giggles as she chased Y/n into her home and kept the lights off.

Where they would worship each other without fear of being caught by unwanted eyes.

Oh, Hermione loved all-nighters.

——————

When the set was closed and everyone had gone home for the...well it was 3 A.M, so morning. Hermione parked her car behind the studio and waited for Y/n to jump in, the walls were high around the Hollywood set buildings, and even bushes blocked anyone dumb enough to try and climb it for a rare photo.

Hermione loved it when the entire studio was almost vacant, besides the security that watched the gates. They never cared that Y/n had been coming with Hermione to set every morning, or that they left at night together too.

Everyone knew they lived close by, so in their heads, it was just carpooling with a good friend. Of course, the tabloids wouldn't see it that way during all-nighters like this. Where she didn't drop her off at home, or at times where they didn't even make it out of Hermione's garage.

She couldn't keep her hands off her all-American girlfriend, and Y/n couldn't stay away from the British Vixen.

Y/n emerged from the shadows beside the building and quickly slipped into the passenger side of Hermione's 1957 Chevy Bel Air.

"Hello my darling" the Brit whispers as she looks around for any prying eyes, then kisses her cheek softly.

"Hiya doll, did you have as much fun as I did on set?" Y/n asks as Hermione starts the car and drives off to the exit, her hands were aching to touch her like she wants to.

"Very much, but Joseph needs to back off" Hermione mutters as they turn into a small alleyway between two set buildings. The windows were down, the air softly blowing on their faces.

"Awe, still jealous that he grabbed my ass?" Y/n snickered as her girlfriend groaned softly as she thought back on the action from earlier today.

They both knew that if they wanted to get far in this world, they had to let a few hands touch them without objection.

The women could only hold back slaps to the face when this happened, and act as if it didn't bother them.

Of course, when Hermione watched their male lead grab her girlfriend's ass, it took everything in her not to stake her claim in front of everyone.

"I'm not jealous. I'm pissed" Hermione responded as they pulled up to the security guard, who smiled at them as he came up to the passenger side window.

"Get some rest Ms.Granger and Ms.Y/l/n," He says as they smile back at him as he walks towards the gate and opens it for them.

The car crept out into the street and then turned to the start of their way home. Y/n looked out towards the high-end clothing stores, their display windows dim, but you could see the shine the fashion produced.

"I'm still surprised you haven't gone shopping during our lunch breaks," Hermione says as she catches her stare, to which Y/n chuckled in response.

"No time, you know our 'breaks' are only fifteen minutes" Y/n sighed as she looked back at Hermione. They were stopped at a red light, the glow of all the street lights illuminated Hermione's face as they stared at one another.

"I've missed you as of late my love" Hermione whispers as she rests her hand on the space between them, her palm open and ready.

(A/N: this was in the days when there was no center console in between the front seats so you could literally lay someone down in the front and have a grand old time lol)

"We've seen each other almost every day for the last three months" Y/n replied as she slipped her fingers between her girlfriends. Hermione squeezed slightly and hummed in dissatisfaction at her lover's answer.

"I know, but if I had it my way, I'd hug and kiss you after every scene and performance you gave" Hermione whispers as she notices the streets are empty, no cars coming or going, or even a single person walking the lonely sidewalks.

"You just want to find every reason to touch me" Y/n whispers back as Hermione looks around them one last time before through the car in park and unbuckling herself, leaning over their intertwined hands.

"If God told me touching you was a sin, I’d go down to hell with a grin on my face" Hermione states as she kisses Y/n's neck, leaving a bright red lipstick stain in its wake.

A guilty moan slipped past Y/n's lips as her girlfriend happily nipped and kissed her sensitive skin like a hungry mosquito.

"Hermione" Y/n warns as she feels a hand land on her knee and slowly trail under her skirt. Her eyes fluttered closed and snapped open multiple times as she kept watch for any signs of life.

Hermione's fingers traced the lining of Y/n's undergarments, earning another moan as she leaned her head back.

Suddenly Hermione backed away and put the car back in drive, but her hand grasped Y/n's thigh and pulled her close enough to not raise any suspicion.

Y/n looked back up and realized a car was coming up behind them, thankfully the light turned green and they were on their way.

Hermione was now only less than an arm's length away, which worked in her favor as she hooked her fingers around the fabric covering Y/n from the greedy hands of her girlfriend.

"Hermione are you-"

"Shhh, just enjoy our extended ride home" she states as she pulls her garments away enough to slip her hand under it with less resistance.

Hermione kept her nails short, which was unusual for most actresses, but she cared about her Y/n more than nonsensical questions from the media about her defiance of social norms.

If only they knew.

Her fingers slowly circle Y/n's clit as she turned onto a back street neighborhood.

Y/n's legs spread slightly as Hermione trailed down her folds, teasingly slipping the tip of her finger inside her, and then removing it swiftly.

Hermione just chuckled as Y/n moaned softly, and looked at her with pleading eyes as they cruised down the quiet neighborhood.

"Be quiet my love, as much as I want the world to hear how good I make you feel, you have to be quiet" she whispers as trailed back up to her clit and gently pinched it. Y/n hissed and gave a glare to the side of her head, to which her girlfriend chuckled in response as she stared at the road.

The pads of her fingers seemed to apologize for her as she soothed the bundle of nerves with small circular motions.

Hermione slowly halted at the stop sign and let her eyes fall onto her beautiful co-star as she tried to bite her lips from moaning in pleasure.

"Lay your head on my lap" she whispers as she retracts her hand and lets Y/n lay down on her thighs.

Hermione could see her underwear had fallen below her knees, peaking out under the skirt, showing the beautiful purple she was wearing,

The Brit's hand snuck back under the fabric of her skirt in desperation, feeling her fingers begin to coat with her slick as she traced her folds again.

"Please Hermione" Y/n pleads in a hushed voice as she grasps the seat in agony. Hermione cooed in response as she turned onto a long narrow street, finally slipping two fingers into her lover's aching entrance.

A moan got caught in Y/n's throat as her head was thrown back in pleasure, a hand grasping Hermione's shirt so she wouldn't crack the leather of her car.

Hermione stalled her fingers and buried them deep inside of her favorite girl, watching from the corner of her eye as she squirmed under her touch.

"Fucking tease!" Y/n whispers as Hermione curls and separates her digits inside her. A soft chuckle left the woman's throat as she continued her sweet torture.

"But you feel so nice around me, can you blame my passion for you?" Hermione asks as her eyes darted around the road, feeling her cunt quiver around her fingers.

"Are you going to cum just from my motionless hand?" She teases as she curls them again, Y/n's mouth hangs open from the sensation.

"You know, if we had soundproof dressing rooms, I'd fuck you senseless during every break. No matter how short it was." Hermione admits as she begins thrusting her fingers at a slow and calculated pace.

"W-We'd never get anything done" Y/n replies between her groans, to which her girlfriend chuckled again.

"Oh my love, if you weren't so headstrong about acting, I would have moved us out to the middle of nowhere by now, so I can have you like this all the time" she whispers as the car rumbles over a pothole, causing the vibrations to stimulate Y/n for a moment.

"Oh god" She whispers as Hermione's pace speeds up slightly, quiet lewd sounds fill the space. If anyone got close enough to the open windows, they would certainly hear the heavenly noises.

Jazz played from the only lit house on the block, tons of people stood within its walls as the starlights drove by.

"Would you like to host parties if our kind is ever allowed to love freely?" Hermione asks as the curling of her fingers becomes more constant with each thrust.

Y/n tried to respond, but the curve of Hermione's palm began to rub against her clit in delicious circular motions.

"You'd be a cute little host, I'd smile proudly as you greeted our friends and introduced me as your lover" Hermione whispered as they turned onto a street that was a straight shot to their homes.

Y/n's hands grasped Hermione's forearm as the pit of her stomach began to tighten familiarly. It took everything in the woman not to dig her nails into her girlfriend's skin, knowing that the bruises would be hard to cover up with makeup.

"You're going to cum already? I was ready to drive around the block a few times" Hermione hums, but the smug and teasing tone didn't slip past Y/n's fading coherent thoughts.

The Brit quickened her pace, noticing cars she recognized all too well, that were parked around the corner to their homes. Also her hand was starting to cramp at this angle.

Fuck, why are they out here?

Paparazzi are waiting nearby, ready to pounce on the women unprovoked from the open windows. She should stop, and just ask Y/n to, loudly, ask her in for a quick drink in case any cameras were watching them.

But, Hermione was too enamored by the fact that only she could bring Y/n to this state. Feeling her body squeeze and tremble around her fingers was delightfully maddening.

Hermione continued down to Y/n's home, they had maybe less than a minute.

"Cum for me my love, we're almost to your house" Hermione whispered as her palm slapped against her clit in a frantic motion from her thrusting.

Y/n's mouth hung open as she uncontrollably dug her nails into her lover's skin. Oops.

Hermione watched from the corner of her eye as Y/n's legs shook and a generous amount of slick covered her fingers, dripping onto the fabric of Y/n's skirt.

"F-Fuck!" Y/n moaned quietly as her head pressed into her girlfriend's lap, and her back arched from the pleasure. Dots of white poked holes in her vision as she stared at the ceiling of the car.

"I think some of our 'friends' are waiting for us." Hermione commented as she reluctantly pulled away her hand and sucked them clean. So she wouldn't ruin her steering wheel...obviously.

Y/n didn't even give herself time to recompose, slipping her underwear back around her hips and sitting back up. Even after a quick session in the car, Y/n still looked as if she had just come out of makeup.

A bright red lipstick stain shined through the dark.

"Don't forget my signature on your neck" Hermione chuckled as Y/n quickly rubbed away the stain, not wanting to take any chances with the journalists.

Hermione had been right, when the headlights hit the tree line when she was turning into Y/n's driveway, two photographers were waiting for a chance at a picture of Y/n or herself bringing home a costar.

Technically it would be true, but they would just say that they two shared drinks after a long day on set. Oh to be so naïve.

The girls acted as if they didn't see them, instead as Y/n got out of the car, she asked her 'friend' in for a cocktail and to talk about some...unfinished business.

Hermione accepted and shut off her car, locking it behind her as she got out. They could hear the clicking of cameras as they walked to the front door. It took everything in the English woman to flip them off.

They slipped into the house with ease, Hermione watched Y/n lock the door and flip on the living area light. She signaled her to follow, and they instead went upstairs and stepped into her bedroom.

It was pitch black, but Hermione knew this room better than her own, so she easily made her way onto the bed.

Somewhere in the darkness, she could feel Y/n's eyes on her, Hermione then felt a hand start from her calf and trail up to between her thighs.

Goosebumps were left in its wake.

"Let me return the favor, won't you Granger?"

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #fluff #smut

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